


A World Of Honour And Of Reverence

by Damned_Writers



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Eggsy/Tilde are in an arranged marriage, F/F, F/M, Hartwin, Is this medieval fantasy?, M/M, Massacring language and cultural historic boundaries because why not, Miscommunication, Pining, Worldbuilding, but I looked online for the etymology of suppository in case it wasnt historically accurate, but even im into Harry and I can see Harry's a dick so who's the real loser here?, even tho Harry's a dick really, everyone is pretty bi, everyone is secretly into Harry a lil bit, except for roxy who's gay, is this medieval?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 50,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damned_Writers/pseuds/Damned_Writers
Summary: “Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Poison. True Love. Hate. Revenge. Giants. Hunters. Bad men. Good men. Beautifulest Ladies. Snakes. Spiders... Pain. Death. Brave men. Cowardly men. Strongest men. Chases. Escapes. Lies. Truths. Passion. Miracles.”“Sounds okay,” I said and I kind of closed my eyes.”― William Goldman, The Princess BrideI mix and matched a little with your requests. You'll find some of your Medieval AU, some Game of Thrones AU, and just a smidgen of “does Harry have feelings for Eggsy, or is he just manipulating him.”Featuring a small host of heroes, villains, scheming politicans, arranged marriages, dubious morals, swordfights, betrayal, forgiveness, and far too many people who are idiots when it comes to matters of the heart. I'm sad to say there are no snakes or spiders, unless we count peoples personalities as such.





	1. The Knight's Tale Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnaofAza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/gifts).



> Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;  
> Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;  
> Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen. 
> 
> Only your word will heal the injury  
> To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean -  
> Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;  
> Their beauty shakes me who was once serene. 
> 
> Upon my word, I tell you faithfully  
> Through life and after death you are my queen;  
> For with my death the whole truth shall be seen.  
> Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;  
> Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;  
> Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.
> 
> \- Geoffrey Chaucer, Rondel of Merciless Beauty (the same dude who lent me the title)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AstG71nQ4g

Harry's Story

*******************

  
  
Harry met Eggsy's clumsy lunge with a vicious swipe that caught the younger man off-guard and ended with him comically flailing for his dropped sword, before ceasing all movement as Harry's blade touched at his exposed neck. He glanced up at him with wide eyes, before throwing up his arms in defeat and groaning in exaggeration. “Got me again. Fuck. Never gonna get this right.”

Harry tutted and removed the sword, leaning down to retrieve Eggsy's. “Too eager again. A duel should never be about finishing early. It ruins the show and makes you seem inexperienced.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes and slumped onto the ground, lying there and looking up at the sky, panting heavily for a few moments. “You know what I think,” he said, turning his squinting eyes to Harry. “You just like showing off for as long as possible. Fucking talking to me about finishing early. What if your opponent's shit?”

“Then,” said Harry, reaching out a hand to pick Eggsy up again, “you make an example of him. Never duel above your own abilities. It tends to end in humiliation. And then possibly death,” he added as an afterthought.

“Yeah, humiliation's _way_ worse than death,” grinned Eggsy, taking back his sword when Harry offered it to him.

“It is for a knight and a gentleman. I can't say anything on behalf of kings and queens of course, I've seen a fair few in my time who clearly preferred the former over the latter, even if it left their kingdoms in ruins. As for mouthy little shits...”

“You calling me a coward?” said Eggsy without any heat.

“That is one thing I would never accuse you of being. Shall we?” He lifted his sword again.

Eggsy groaned, but did the same.

 

After several hours of being beaten into the dust, Harry allowed Eggsy to go and wash for dinner, which he set about preparing in to be as nourishing, but frugal as possible. Hopefully they would be reaching their destination within a few weeks, but Harry had plenty of experience with rationing out food supplies and from how lean Eggsy had been when they first met he had clearly been used to going without meals in the past. Still, Harry made sure to give him the bigger portions without his noticing. The current hollowness around Eggsy's eyes and the faint jutting of his collarbones were not natural to his build and Harry hoped one day to see him properly fed. Soon.

Eggsy was washing in the stream close to their little camp, so Harry made do with a bowl of heated water splashed in his face to give him some privacy, then hastily changed from a simple tunic and trousers into his preferable attire of colourful, swirling patterns of which he had managed to bring quite a few on this lengthy journey – far more appropriate for someone of his stature than what Eggsy preferred to wear, no matter how much the boy asked him if it was a good idea to carry that amount of luggage on their journey.

Eggsy's clothes were customary amongst the people he and his mother had lived with apparently so Harry avoided any overt commentary, despite the amount of self-restraint it took to bite his tongue. Still, he had promised Eggsy that the minute they reached their destination he would have him something made for when they presented at court. When he had first arrived at the camp where he and Eggsy's paths had crossed, his clothes had drawn many a look, sometimes snide, but mostly curious and appreciative. Not that he was vain about his own attractiveness. Not even when those looks were being directed at him from Eggsy's side, which he noticed happened often, sometimes with a whistle and a gratifying remark.

They had been on the road for almost a week since Harry had first met the young prince and his family. So far the long riding hours had flown by in Eggsy's company and he regretted that it wouldn't last. Thinking back to not so long ago he struggled to recall how his initial assumptions of him could have been so wrong.

 

*******************

 

At first Harry had not been sure what to make of him, a surly-looking man standing at the back of his stepfather's foul-faced consorts as though he wasn't particularly important. Harry had in fact almost missed seeing him at all, but for how his mother stopped at his side for a few moments to talk with him before joining her husband to welcome Harry in their court – a fair word for little more than a series of travellers who butchered villages and enslaved other wanderers of the harsh roads out here in the plains. Harry had been thoroughly unimpressed with the son of Lee Unwin and the company he chose to keep.

He presented himself without flourish, letting his words do the impressing. “My name is Galahad. You may have heard of me.” An almost disgruntled nod acknowledged that yes, these people knew of him, which meant that their distrust came from more than just a general dislike of people. Harry was after all one of King Arthur's most trusted and famous knights and known to be an upholder of the law. “What you may not know is that I have been expelled from Arthur's side and I am exiled on these shores.” This caused a low rumble of mutterings through the crowd.

“What for?” yelled one of the men at the sides.

“A matter that is none of your concern, but I am sure the story will come out eventually. What matters is that I have been asking around as to who would be most worthy of my services. And who has enough money to pay for them, of course. Now that I have finished with the king, I must look for someone else who holds that mantle.”

Dean Anthony Baker was no king. He was little more than a thief and a glorified murderer who had risen from the petty ranks of other thieves and murderers. He was not the reason that Harry had come here, but with the rumours that had no doubt already begun to spread with his departure his story would hold up to further enquiries that Dean would be sending his messengers out to make.

Baker's eyes narrowed. “Prove that you're worth it,” he finally said.

 _Ah,_ thought Harry. _No time for niceties before the fight. That's how one knows that one is no longer in the presence of stuck up nobles at least._

The battle took place inside the tent itself – large enough to hold fifty audience members and the dirt ring in the middle where Harry now stood facing down five of Dean's men, his sword and armour discarded for the simple, yet expensive and excellently tailored, robes he wore beneath. He had already noted that two of them carried concealed weapons. Good. That meant he was allowed to fight dirty.

“Watch out granddad or you'll get hurt,” smirked the first one, a tall rat-faced man who was clearly the leader of the pack.

Harry let the jibe pass. He would after all be teaching them all proper respect in just a second. His eyes briefly scanned the audience, checking for any other hidden weapons or attacks that might be sprung on him, but it seemed that nobody was seriously expecting him to win against these five pitiful opponents, despite his reputation. He froze – there stood Eggsy Unwin again in his line of sight, with an expression on his face that Harry wasn't sure what was. It suited him better than the sullenness of earlier, whatever it was for, highlighting his lovely open mouth and widening eyes. For a second their eyes met and he realised that Eggsy had been directing the look at him. Was it worry?

The toad who stood next to the rat noticed, breaking the spell with a snigger. “If you're looking for rentboys they're out behind the tents.”

Well.

That couldn't be ignored.

“Manners,” he began, turning his back on the men. “Maketh,” he walked to the far end of the ring, where a man was drinking a tankard of ale. “Man,” he finished. “Do you know what that means? Then let me teach you a lesson.” Before anybody could react he grabbed the tankard and lobbed it at the face of the rat, hitting him squarely in the middle of the forehead. For a few seconds everyone seemed to freeze as the man hilariously and slowly plummeted backwards.

“Are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going to fight?” said Harry, impatience tingeing his voice, which bared the now barely suppressed violence coiling beneath.

The first would-be assailant came at him and Harry punched him in the face, sending him careening into the second. Another aimed his fist at him, but he ducked and toad received a blow hard enough to knock out one of his teeth, which sailed out towards the suddenly ecstatic crowd.

Rat had been picked up by the last of his opponents and was shaking off his headache, shards stuck in his forehead making him grimace. They both drew short knives, and as Harry avoided another attack he noticed Eggsy about to step in, his face white with surprise and anger. He held back when he saw Harry pulling the man towards him as rat threw. Instead of hitting Harry as intended, it found its mark in the shoulder of the man he'd used as a shield, who dropped, screaming in pain. Harry knocked out the second with two well-aimed punches to the face, then sent toad sailing into rat, just as the other knife-wielder came at him. He easily avoided the sloppy lunge, coming in close and grabbing his arm. He broke it with a snap that made everyone wince and the man fell to the ground as well, sobbingly nursing it to his chest.

Rat stood again, drawing another knife from his person. “You dirty, fucking-” he began, but there Harry knelt to the ground and picked up a rock, easily hitting him square in the face with it and sending him to the ground for a third time. This time he stayed down. The other four attackers lay in various states of unconsciousness and pain. The crowd was clapping and yelling, whilst Dean made a face at the state of his men, before declaring that Harry was most welcome in his group.

Harry ignored them all, instead seeking out Eggsy's face again. A little afraid, a little impressed. He could work with that.

 

*******************

 

Whilst their soup simmered to completion, Harry stood to fetch Eggsy. He had been gone for longer than he felt comfortable with in an environment that could easily become hostile at any moment. The stream was just around the corner and at the bottom of a small incline. It was mild, cool, and shallow enough to wade through as they had discovered whilst crossing it earlier, so Harry couldn't blame Eggsy for spending time there after their tiring practise.

He spotted him immediately when he rounded the corner and stopped dead on his tracks. Eggsy was lying on his back with his feet in the water, letting the still-warm evening sun dry him off whilst he dozed. He may have been on the side of too-lean, but the beginnings of more impressive musculature was already being hinted at on his arms and chest, the glinting drops of water making him shimmer as though he wasn't quite real. Harry found his eyes tracing down his chest and stomach, down to his frankly sinful thighs and – he snapped them back up, before clearing his throat loudly.

At his voice, Eggsy's eyes opened, but far from seeming shocked at being found like this he smiled widely when he saw him. “Should've announced yourself before coming around that corner,” he tutted playfully.

Harry's throat was dry, but his voice, thank the gods, was brisk and unshakeable. “Hurry up and get dressed, dinner's ready.”

“ _Finally!_ Thought I was gonna die down here. Be right with you.”

Harry gave a cursory nod and left again before Eggsy could get up. It was normal, he told himself. He himself had bathed and slept and changed next to men and women without it being anything but friendly camaraderie. Just because he and Eggsy didn't know one another well yet didn't mean that any of them would care about nudity under natural circumstances. For that matter Harry had known many attractive men in his lifetime without it having much of an influence on him other than an acknowledgement of their attractiveness. Even during the times when an acquaintance or meeting had turned into sex Harry had not felt that it had impacted any aspect of his professional duties. But with Eggsy it had been as though he was interrupting something that he wasn't allowed to see, breaching the boy's confidence in some way. It was troubling. Particularly under these circumstances.

He pushed the thought aside and poured soup into their bowls.

“I get it now,” said Eggsy as he approached noisily behind him.

Harry stiffened slightly. Had Eggsy noticed him standing at the top of the incline for too long to be innocent?

“That's what you was doing with Dean's rutters. No way in hell they could've beaten you, but you drew it out, made people enjoy it so nobody would come for you next. You humiliated them to make a point so they wouldn't go for you again and everyone enjoyed the show so much, they were on your side.”

Harry nodded and placed Eggsy's plate down as he came into the light of the fire and sat next to him. “I never do anything without good reason.”

“And you were trying to impress me,” grinned Eggsy.

Harry had halfway raised his bowl to begin drinking, but stopped, raising an eyebrow. “A gentleman doesn't peacock.”

Eggsy snorted. “You do it all the time. But it was because you were defending my honour or whatever, after that comment. I'm impressed, if you're wondering. You're very impressive. My knight in shining armour.” And with a wink Eggsy began to unabashedly eat, not seeing how his words had left Harry straining to keep his eyes off him for the remainder of dinner.

 

*******************

 

Three nights after arriving at Dean's camp Harry was beginning to contemplate whether it was time to simply complete his the first half of his mission and return home. This place was everything he despised: filled with people whose days of inactivity made them restless, and therefore needlessly violent, cruel, and rude. It was also boring. He spent more time getting ready in the mornings than doing anything else of value for the rest of the day, except for observing the going-ons of the residents here – in particular Eggsy's going-ons.

After his introduction on the first day, Harry was considered someone to be avoided as far as Dean's thugs were concerned. Although he had found that people with admiring looks who were willing to be bed-company were not so hard to come by, it wasn't something that he was overly keen to accept in a place where diseases were common. Home, bathe, sex, in that order. Maybe a fight in between.

But then there was Eggsy, who was another problem for many reasons. For one, the boy was not a bad fighter and he enjoyed watching him tussle with his contemporaries. Although formless and graceless, he was surprisingly lithe and never backed down – thus far he had only lost because he had a habit of antagonising multiple assailants who were much larger and more experienced than himself. The beatings tended to be perfunctory, like kicking a barking dog, and Harry's natural instinct was to intervene somehow, but he wasn't here to draw attention to himself.

Eggsy had tracked Harry down on the third morning, entering his tent whilst he was still getting dressed and clearly not expecting to see Harry in only his breeches, because he had stopped dead and tried hard to look anywhere but at him. It had been very arresting, but again, for many a reason, he would never have suggested then – and certainly not now – that Eggsy might want to join his bed. “Um,” he had begun, staring at a point just over Harry's left shoulder.

“You should have announced yourself before entering,” said Harry, an automatic chastisement ingrained from years of the same being heaped on him.

“Right,” said Eggsy, the conversation stopping dead again.

“Is there something you wanted to ask?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I... the way you fought those men.”

This time Harry merely waited for him to continue, taking pity on him by putting on a simple, white shirt that hung loose and open over his breeches.

“How'd you do that?” asked Eggsy, gaining some confidence.

“Training,” said Harry.

“... anything you can teach me?”

Harry took the time to study his face, as he had been so rudely interrupted the last time he had tried to do so. He could see the resemblance to his father – a defiant look in his eyes, his lips, his jaw. His mother was more well-hidden and yet she seemed to feature more overall in his expressions, his nose, and a certain quirk of his mouth. He really was very pretty. At the time Harry had stored that information away without much emotional attachment. He was here on an assignment. Lee Unwin's memory and legacy were not his concern. But still, the way Lee looked back at him from his eyes, made him unwilling to entirely let down the boy's hopeful earnest expression, so he had simply nodded once.

He had been rewarded with an open smile that had transformed Eggsy into something else entirely, before hurriedly thanking him and leaving the tent again in a whirlwind of gratefulness.

Now, watching the sun go down whilst returning to his tent, he was contemplating how quickly he could leave camp without Eggsy knowing of it. Fuck this part of the mission. Fuck getting close to him, and everything else that he had been ordered to do. And fuck having to let Eggsy down to his face. It was one thing to disappoint him, but another to face that disappointment through those eyes. Eggsy had a tendency of getting into trouble with Dean and his men, almost inviting their blows and insults. Harry knew that he was a small gust of hope blowing in from across the seas, but he told himself that in the long run this was the better of the two outcomes that his presence here spelled. Disappearing out of Eggsy's life again would hurt the boy, yes, but at least it wouldn't kill him.

Lost in thought, he only noticed that he had been followed into his tent when his training kicked in and he was already pointing his sword at her. He sheathed it once he saw who it was; despite himself lowering his head in a small bow.

Michelle snorted. “Not the queen. No need for -” she waved her free arm at him. The other was holding a sleeping Daisy, her small fingers wrapped around an ugly cloth rabbit-like thing.

“Still,” said Harry. “You were, once.”

“Hart, right? You were there when my husband was killed. That's what you told me. You saw it happen.”

He had aged since then, yes. And Michelle had only really spoken with him the one time, but still... “I thought...”

“You're surprised that I knew you,” said Michelle.

Harry studied her. “It's been a few years.”

“You think I wouldn't remember the man who told me my husband was dead? Who told me to run and gave Eggsy the pendant with the royal crest. You think I wouldn't remember that it was night and Eggsy didn't know what was going on, or why you suddenly had to leave us.. I asked for your help, and you said-”

“I said that I would return one day,” said Harry.

“You said that you couldn't help us. You weren't famous then, of course, but I'll remember your face till the day I die.” His expression didn't change. Her frown deepened. “What the fuck are you actually doing here?” she asked.

“I was telling the truth to your current husband -” he noted the tightening around her eyes at the word, “- but not entirely. I was Arthur's most loyal knight until he betrayed me. Left me to die. I would go into the specifics, but I'm sure the rumours have reached camp by now. I came here originally with the intention of seeking out princess Tilde, since the two are enemies, when I heard that you and your son resided here. I was... well, curious. I don't intend on staying though.”

“You can take your curiosity and shove it,” she snarled. He recognised what lay beneath – a festering hurt that rather than finding a chance to heal had only been burrowed into with the years.

He made a show of hesitating, as though the thought had only just occurred to him. “I can help you,” he said. “I... owe it. To Lee. He saved my life on that night.”

“You don't have anything that could help me. Not any more. Just get out before dawn.” She turned to leave, hushing a slowly waking Daisy.

The distraction presented Harry with an opportunity. “I can take Eggsy with me,” he said, before she could speak or leave. “Give him a new life.”

She turned back. He had the feeling that she was scrutinising him in turn. “Princess Tilde of the Northern kingdoms has asked for my son's hand in marriage,” she said at last. “I'm getting it's a ploy to start a war with king Arthur, or at least cement her position against him. Since it looks like you're not in his good books any more either maybe you'd want to help my son before someone else finds out and comes to kill him. Or Dean finds out. I can't protect him for much longer and she can't risk sending her men to fetch him in case word gets out, so... looks like you got here just in time.”

“I would be honoured to take him,” he said.

“Good. And... he doesn't know yet. About any of it, his dad, Tilde. I don't think he'd go if he knew why. Think I was selling him off or something. He's got it in his head that these kinds of marriages don't end well.” She was talking about herself, he knew, but didn't press the matter by asking how she had fallen so low. Whatever had led her to this point Harry was sure that asking her about it would end with her trying to kick his teeth in and that would definitely wake the toddler.

He nodded to her and was about to leave, when she added: “Just... take care of my boy.”

There was a churning sensation somewhere in his gut that he ignored. He was about to lie to her and for some reason it wasn't as easy as he had expected it to be. “I'll keep him safe,” he said.

 

After the conversation with Michelle he went to look for Eggsy. He was easy enough to find, since he was sprinting down the pathway in Harry's direction just as he exited, with the look of a man on the run. Harry withdrew into the shadows between two tents and as he came rushing past, grabbed his arm and pulled him close, one hand covering his mouth. “Shh,” he said softly and Eggsy relaxed slightly in his grip and nodded.

Just then six other men came running, not seeing the two of them in their hurry. They both stood completely still, Harry's arm around Eggsy's waist and hand lowered slightly from his mouth to allow Eggsy to breathe.

When Harry was sure that they were gone he let go of Eggsy. “Running away? You seem to get into trouble a lot,” he said, allowing the slightest bit of humour to shine through with a quirk of his mouth.

Eggsy grinned. “Stole his favourite horse and, uh, accidentally set it free. Deserved it, poor thing, he treated it like shit.”

“Would you like a drink?” asked Harry.

Eggsy's smile widened into something radiant and he nodded.

They walked easily enough next to each other, almost like old familiar friends. Eggsy looked so much like his father that Harry could almost trick himself into believing it for a few seconds at a time.

“So,” said Eggsy. “You was a knight? Everyone seemed pretty impressed when you said your name, but I never heard of you.”

“Do you know a lot of knights?”

He grimaced. “Not in these parts, everyone here's an outlaw or a mercenary. Got some in the nearest kingdom, about... two weeks ride?”

“Princess Tilde.”

“Yeah, that's her. Got her own private army of the best. Would be the fucking dream to train there, be a kingsman like he was, or queensman I guess, with Tilde. You're from over the sea though, yeah?”

Harry nodded.

“My dad's from there. And my mum. And me, I guess, but we came here when I was five, don't remember it really.”

They reached an open stall and Harry poured Eggsy a pint, paying the woman, who seemed surprised. Dean's men probably didn't need to pay. He frowned slightly at the thought that he was considered a part of their gang, but held on to the notion that he would be gone by morning. Eggsy didn't mention the money. Harry got the feeling that he was more honest than the rest of them.

“What's it like over there?” asked Eggsy.

“It's a lot wetter,” said Harry, to which Eggsy's smile contorted into a smirk and an eyeroll.

“No stories then?”

“I have a few. But I'm afraid they'll have to wait. I have some things to discuss with you.”

At Harry's tone, Eggsy seemed to withdraw slightly, as though he had revealed too much of himself and was being punished for it. “Yeah?” he said, warily.

“I knew your father,” said Harry. “We... trained together.” Another white lie amongst the many he had already told slipped easily in with the rest.

“Wh-you knew him? Do you know...”

“Plenty of time for questions later,” said Harry in an urgent tone. “I came here because I recognised your name and your mother's name. We have spoken.”

“What about?”

“I'm leaving this place. Tomorrow. I want you to come with me and so does she.”

“What?” His mouth was gaping slightly.

“We discussed it and have both decided that you will be coming with me when I go to Princess Tilde's court. You can go as my squire and I'll help you train to be a knight. Eggsy. You deserve better than this.”

“But my mum...” His face belied his words. Eyes wide and wanting, already mostly convinced by the few arguments Harry had already given. The only hurdle was his family.

“She was the one to suggest it. You can come back, Eggsy. Once you've completed your training you can get her and your sister out of here.”

“You could kill Dean! Take us all with you.”

Harry shook his head. “I'm the best, but there's a limit to how many men I could subdue. And in spite of everything your stepfather's men are loyal.”

Eggsy deflated slightly, a frown marring his before so hopeful face. “So... my mum made you come all this way just to get me out of here?”

Harry shook his head. “It was luck that I happened upon you. The name Unwin is very well-known where I come from and I wanted to see what had become of it. I have to admit I did not expect to find you in a place like that. I do not believe your father would have approved.”

Eggsy's eyes narrowed slightly. “Didn't have much choice in where I ended up.”

“You're clearly intelligent, dedicated, capable. And yet I find you running around with a group of ruffians and thugs.”

“Don't know if you noticed knight in shining fucking armour, but I've got my mum and my sister to think about. Can't just go running off on adventures like you without consequences. And no matter where I've been or what I tried I'd end up with people like you judging me from your ivory towers with no thought about why we do what we do. We ain't got much choice. And if we was born with the same silver spoon up our arses we'd do just as well as you, if not better!” He folded his arms in angry self-defence.

“Eggsy what the fuck do you think you're doing?!”

They both turned to see the rat and the toad leading the herd of men that had been chasing Eggsy earlier. Harry raised a slight eyebrow at their interruption. “Some more examples of young men who simply need a silver suppository?”

“Nah, they're the exceptions. We should get out of here.”

“Nonsense we haven't finished our drink.”

The toad took the lead. “After you stole Rottie's horse Dean says you're fair game and he doesn't give a fuck what your mum thinks,” he snarled.

Eggsy, to his credit, didn't even flinch, but Harry could see the underlying fear. This wasn't the first time, obviously, but the violence in the air seemed more purposeful than the previous fights Harry had seen.

“Um, listen boys,” said Harry. “I've had a rather emotional day, so whatever your beef with Eggsy is – and I'm sure it's well-founded – I'd appreciate it enormously if you could just leave us in peace until I can finish this, forgive me, rather too warm pint of beer.”

The rat blinked, but after their last fight with him seemed cautious about simply charging in head first. A shame. Harry had been spoiling for some tension relief after his conversation with Michelle and if it wasn't a fight it would have to be sex. Except of course there was the matter of needing to get out of here before the two of them were hurt or killed. He almost sighed aloud, instead turning to Eggsy. “Bring two horses around and meet me by your tent in five minutes,” he murmured.

For a second Eggsy looked like he was going to argue – perhaps to stay and fight, or to remain here with his mother and sister – but in the end he gave a slight nod and disappeared around the corner.

“Gentlemen,” said Harry, downing his beer. “Where were we?”

Seven minutes later he arrived at Eggsy's tent with his own gear packed and dried blood on his hands and tunic; a pity, but he could wash it on the way. On the other hand his fight or fuck instincts had been largely satisfied by the brawl.

He saw the horses standing ready and then heard the cries emanating from within.

“ _No, Dean, don't hurt him, ple-”_

“ _Get the fuck back! I could kill you right now and nobody in the world would know about it!”_

“But I would,” said Harry, stepping in. Dean took a step back from where he had been gripping Eggsy by the throat and holding a knife over him. Michelle stood tearfully next to them, clearly unable to decide whether to get her youngest out of harms way or step in to take the eldest beating. Daisy was wailing, but it subsided into a loud sniffling as the commotion died down. Eggsy's cheeks were dark from where he had been hit.

“What the fuck?” yelled Dean, knife now pointed at Harry.

“You've seen me fight,” said Harry. “So I suggest you leave the boy alone and drop your weapon, and we'll be on our way. Peacefully.”

For a second Dean looked like he might lunge at him, but he released the knife, giving Eggsy the opening to grab a bag that had been hurriedly packed and sling it over his shoulder, as well as a thin blanket and an extra tunic. He hesitated for a brief moment before kneeling down next to Daisy and giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. She was still crying, so he put the ugly cloth rabbit into her hands, smiling slightly when she immediately stuck it in her mouth. “Is that better?” he said softly, before straightening up and allowing his face to melt back into its unhappy frown. “Mum?”

She glanced from Dean to Harry. “Just go, or he's gonna..:” evidently this had been more serious than the usual punishments that Eggsy had had to endure, thought Harry.

Eggsy nodded and squeezed her arm, before hurrying out of the tent and to the horses.

Harry stayed, looking at her. “I could kill him,” he said.

Michelle shook her head, stepping between them.

He shrugged, leaving in a way that seemed far more nonchalant than he felt.

Outside, Eggsy stood next to his horse, clearly deliberating whether to go back in. Harry put his own pack on his horse and mounted it. “Let's go,” he said. “We have about ten seconds before your stepfather grabs his meagre wits and comes after us.”

Eggsy looked up at him and Harry was struck by how young he was. His father had been around the same age when he had died, but Harry-of-the-past had himself been too young to notice. Now he suddenly felt a jarringly intense protective emotion that he had never had to endure before. Nobody that age should have gone through as much as Eggsy and Lee had done. He allowed his expression to soften. “We're coming back.”

Eggsy's jaw tightened and he mounted the horse. Harry set his own into a trot and then a gallop, sure that Eggsy would follow. He did.

After half an hour of riding through grassland they reached a rocky and barren terrain. Harry abandoned the open road for the cover of the hills, changing direction and leading them through an apparently directionless maze. A couple of times whilst riding they distantly heard sounds that could have been other riders and whenever they did Harry would change their path again in seemingly random directions.

Eggsy's face was pale and harrowed beneath the purpling bruises, but Harry didn't say anything as they continued onwards, afraid that one word would send him back to his family's aid. So they rode in silence through the night and until the sun came up again and they finally exited the pass and arrived at the top of a hill. A narrow path led downwards and into a valley. Eggsy blinked at the sun. “Didn't know we'd ridden into a mountain,” he said softly. By now his expression had mellowed into sleepiness and he worked hard to stifle his yawns.

Harry deemed it safe to speak. “Not quite a mountain. Not like the ones we'll be seeing later, anyway. We'll make camp in a few hours. Can you make it until then?”

Eggsy nodded, gripping his stirrups tighter and blinking a few times to dispel the tiredness.

 _Good boy,_ thought Harry as they began to make their way down again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of envision the beginning sparring session that Harry and Eggsy have like the opening of Dragonheart (except of course Eggsy's not a massive dick like Einon).


	2. The Knight's Tale Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anone as I theim overtoke, I seide,  
> "Haile frendes, whider purpose ye to wende?"  
> "For sothe," quod one, that aunswered lich a mayde,  
> "To Loves Courte nowe goo we, gentill frend."  
> "Where is that place," quod I, "my felowe hend?"  
> "At Citheron, sir," seid he, "withoute dowte,  
> The Kyng of Love and all his noble rowte,
> 
> Dwellyng withynne a castell ryally."  
> So than apace I jorned forth among,  
> And as he seid, so fond I there truly:  
> For I behelde the towres high and strong,  
> And high pynacles, large of hight and long,  
> With plate of gold bespredde on every side,  
> And presious stone the stonewerke forto hide. 
> 
> \- Geoffrey Chaucer "The Court Of Love."

They had been riding for nearly two weeks now and had reached the outskirts of Tilde's territories. The winds were slightly colder now, and the terrain grassier, with trees and small woods haphazardly skittered across the horizon. They had even passed a few smaller farms, although this was a dangerous and largely infertile land still.

Following dinner they continued the tradition that they had begun on the first day of their journey. Eggsy would lie down on his thin shirt and look up at the sky and ask Harry for stories about his past. The first night Harry had been unwilling to share too much.

“How long've you been a knight then?” Eggsy had persisted.

“I began my training when I was a child. I was always destined to defend kings and queens. I became a kingsman when I was twenty.”

Eggsy had let out a puff of air in surprise. “Not much life then.”

“Plenty of life. One is never bored.”

“Yeah, but... do you have family?”

Harry had shaken his head. “A few distant cousins perhaps, but nobody I care about.”

“Care about the king?”

Harry hadn't answered for the longest time, until Eggsy had cleared his throat. “Sorry. Sore subject, I get it. Can you tell me your favourite mission?”

“I don't have a favourite. I did once blow up a sorcerer, which was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I deflected his magic with my shield and it bounced back at him. Black fire. The strength of the blast sent me through a window and I was asleep for over a day. Nobody was quite sure if I was even alive, except for Merlin of course.”

Eggsy had wrinkled his nose. “Don't sound fun.”

“Oh, I enjoy a good fire,” Harry had said as though speaking of enjoying music or paintings.

“You're a fucking nut, Harry. Think one of them bolts on your armour's been screwed too tight one too many times.” He had said it without heat though, grinning broadly. The fire had died down to embers that case his face in shadow, making it appear spirit-like to Harry, who could not look away.

 

*******************

 

By now they had shared many parts of each of their lives, Eggsy doing most of the talking unless asking Harry a direct question, and Harry trying to divert his questions into safer territories. They had briefly covered Merlin – Harry's best friend, Daisy (many times, Eggsy never tired of talking of her), Harry's parents and upbringing in the royal court, what Eggsy remembered before Dean, and favourite foods.

Harry noted that there were parts that Eggsy wanted to avoid just as much as he did, namely his father. Still, his hope that this would last was a feeble one and on this night it seemed that Eggsy had finally conquered his own doubts.

“... You know, when you said you'd heard of my dad. Back when we was still at Dean's...”

“I know,” said Harry quietly.

“... Did you know my dad? Because you were a knight and, well...”

“I was not high up in the ranks then, whereas he was a kingsman. I saw him, yes.” He hesitated. “And you.”

“No way! Was I cute? Mum always said I was chubby when I was a kid, that didn't last though.” He poked at himself. Harry knew that with his healthier diet and rigorous training he would soon be a stout, muscular young man. He could imagine though that without the training Eggsy naturally leaned towards a rounder shape. Both suited him far better than the thin, tired boy he had first met.

“So where was you when all the shit happened?” asked Eggsy suddenly. “My mum never told me a lot, just that when the old king was killed my dad went down fighting.”

Harry looked him straight in the eye. “I wasn't there. An oversees mission. When I returned I had the option of swearing fealty to the new lord of the lands or death.”

Eggsy bit his lip. “Why'd you do it?”

“Revenge would only cause strife and those who suffered would be the people. And because my first duty is always to the king. Whoever that king may be. Even if I don't agree with them, for the good of the many. It's what I was trained to do.”

Eggsy held his gaze for a few seconds before looking down. “Shit life if you ask me. That what I'm gonna be training for?”

“I chose the people in this case. It seemed the right thing to do at the time. But you have to find out who you would be willing to swear loyalty to and whether that loyalty could extend past death itself.”

Eggsy's eyes snapped back up, this time unnervingly piercing. “Think I'd be able to do that.”

Harry cleared his throat and turned to the fire. “Good. If it is to princess Tilde or to the citizens of the realm, that is your decision. As long as you stick with it. My choice to defend the people is what led me out here.”

Eggsy was quiet for longer than Harry was comfortable with, but finally he spoke. “That why Arthur kicked you out?”

Harry didn't speak for a moment. “... We often didn't... agree. Eventually it came to a head and I was asked to prove my loyalty.”

“And how'd that go?” asked Eggsy.

“Well. I'm here now,” answered Harry.

“Yeah. Lucky for me.”

Harry looked at Eggsy again to see his wide, honest smile and almost confessed everything. His mother's plans for him, his own, Arthur's. Then Eggsy rolled over on his side and yawned. “G'night Harry.”

“Goodnight, Eggsy,” he said quietly.

 

*******************

 

There was a comfortable silence for the most part when they rode. It was freeing, being just the two of them out here, as though no responsibilities or people existed except for them. An illusion that Harry was happy to remain in for as long as possible.

“So what's it like?” asked Eggsy after a few hours.

“Hm?”

“What's Tilde's kingdom like? I always heard the northerners were kind of rough, lived in wooden forts and the like. But I figure that's not a bad thing if they've managed to stick around for so long.”

Harry smiled. “They used to, yes. In many places they still do, as per tradition. However, the castle and its keep is more like a city these days, constantly expanding. I haven't seen it myself in quite a few years and if the rumours are true we'll both be impressed. However, I remember the way.”

“And you ever seen the princess?”

“No. I have been told she's quite beautiful though.” His smile had become subdued as he said it. “More importantly she will make a good queen. She has been ruling after her parents death for over a year already. The people love her and she is good at getting her way, both at court and in military matters.”

“She married then?” said Eggsy, from his tone not noticing the way that Harry no longer wanted to look at him.

“Not yet.”

“Sounds like whoever it's gonna be is a lucky bastard,” laughed Eggsy.

Harry's former good mood slipped further. It didn't matter, he told himself. The myriad of lies he was telling at the moment, both on the behalf of Eggsy's mother and his own, should be making him feel far worse than the twang of jealousy that had suddenly hit him, but he knew he was a selfish man at heart. It didn't matter that Eggsy was promised to Tilde, not in the grand scheme of things. Besides, even without that and many other impossible obstacles, Eggsy was not interested. Perhaps he would have been able to have him for a one-night tumble, but for some reason that wasn't what he wanted.

“Harry?” said Eggsy, and Harry noticed that he had been brooding too obviously.

“We're approaching the first villages,” said Harry, shaking it off him. “Maybe we'll even find a place with a bed.”

Eggsy grinned widely, as though Harry had promised them a dozen servants and carriages made of gold.

“What?”

“Never slept on a proper bed before,” said Eggsy.

They reached the village as the sun went down, Eggsy immediately dismounting and rolling his shoulders, watching the small wooden fort with something that looked like awe.

“I thought Dean's company had ridden through towns before?” asked Harry, dismounting next to him as they approached the gates. Despite having ridden all day he somehow managed to look just as freshly made up as he had been in the morning after he had washed and dressed by the stream, even shaving before they had set off. Next to him Eggsy looked gorgeously windswept and unkept, although his clothing was one of only two sets that he had brought for the journey.

“Yeah, well.” Eggsy fidgeted. “Never was allowed into the larger towns. Snuck into a couple of inns and the like, for a quiet pint. The King's Head was pretty great until they caught me there and I got the fucking thrashing of a lifetime. They raided a couple of villages; not even that really. Farms. Made out they were entitled to livestock and money and, yeah. Tried to give the people some of that back when his thugs weren't watching. I don't do that sort of thing. Never did that kind of thing.” He turned a suddenly painfully serious expression towards Harry, as though he could have thought that Eggsy would rob and hurt helpless farmers.

“I know,” said Harry, just as the gate to the town opened slightly and a scraggly old man exited to enquire as to their business and identities. After paying him in gold coin in exchange for not having to answer and ensuring that there would be no trouble from their side, they were allowed to enter and Harry walked them towards the nearest inn. If Eggsy had never in his life had the chance to relax in a proper bed without having to keep half an eye out for attacks or needing to suddenly pack up camp, then Harry was going to introduce him to the experience as soon as possible.

He had been planning to get them a room each, but it turned out that the inn itself was mostly full and they had the choice between one bed or the stables. Harry, a slight frown, turned to Eggsy.

“What'd he say?” asked Eggsy, and Harry remembered that he couldn't speak the language.

“Only one bed. Everyone is travelling towards the city for a glimpse of the princess' suitor it seems.”

“Oh, well, if it's big enough,” said Eggsy carelessly, as though the implications didn't bother him at all, and Harry reminded himself that to Eggsy there were no insinuation involved. They had after all travelled, bathed (Harry was not bashful and after the first time that he had seen Eggsy without his clothes, had refused to appear affected whenever either of them undressed), and slept next to each other since leaving Dean's camp.

Harry bought them the room for the night. “Go upstairs and wash up. I asked them to bring you some hot water and food.”

“Where're you going?” asked Eggsy.

“Just something quick to attend to,” said Harry, before leaving Eggsy to the gracious attention of the lad who was going to be attending him.

He returned a couple of hours later, bearing two packages and wearing new shoes. Eggsy was sitting downstairs, having managed to garner the interest of most of the inn's residents with some story or other, much to Harry's fond exasperation. On the one hand they weren't here to draw attention to themselves, but on the other, Eggsy thrived under the attention of the group surrounding him and Harry was loathe to deny him any kind of fun he was having; especially considering that they would soon be reaching the city itself and with everything he would have to tell him the fun would most definitely stop. Instead, he silently went upstairs to their room, where he found that Eggsy had left half of the food and a towel for him, as well as a basin of clean water, which was now cold, but serviceable. Harry was perfunctory in washing up and then spent too much time placing the parcel on the bed where Eggsy would see it, then moving it to the lone, rickety table that stood in the room, then back to the bed.

When Eggsy eventually came upstairs, Harry was casually polishing his armour over the table.

“Didn't see you come in,” yawned Eggsy, before throwing himself on the bed.

“I tend to not want to be noticed unless there's good reason to,” he said.

“Yeah, like showing off,” grinned Eggsy.

“I got you something.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy raised his head slightly. “Where is it?”

“You're lying on it,” said Harry, not looking up from his armour.

Eggsy crawled back, picking up the parcel from underneath him. “This why you left?”

Harry nodded. “Now seemed a good time to get something minor sorted,” he said.

Eggsy opened the parcel with a surprising carefulness, not ripping the cheap paper if he could help it. Out of the parcel tumbled a simple, but nice tunic and breeches.

“Blue matches your eyes,” said Harry, still not looking up and sounding as though he hadn't put as much thought into it as he had. “You will need something for when we get there, but we can look for something more modern once you're settled. No offence, but as you look now you're far more likely to be mistaken for an incredibly attractive beggar than a future king.”

“You know my size?” said Eggsy softly, looking over his new clothes.

“Of course. I can reasonably well measure a man's body from having seen it once. With you I've had ample time to make sure I was accurate in my calculations.”

He had heard Eggsy come over to him, but the hug took him from surprise. Eggsy's arms laced across the front of his chest, and he felt his breath tickling his neck. It was an awkward angle, but Eggsy didn't appear to know much about the word awkwardness. Harry stopped what he was doing and patted Eggsy on the hand.

“Thanks Harry,” he said. “Haven't really... well, you know. With moving around all the time. Mum used to find things for me to wear. Haven't had anything new since I was five I think.” He let go.

Harry breathed out. “You're very welcome. If I'd known you would like it this much I would have gotten you a pair.” He put down everything he had been working on and stood.

“Yeah?” grinned Eggsy. “How much more grateful would you've wanted me to be?”

Harry tried not to swallow his tongue. “I... I'll have you know I would never expect...”

Eggsy's grin widened. “Was just playing. Promise I'm not going to take your virtue.” He carefully put the shirt and breeches on top of his gear.

“Nothing left of that to take,” murmured Harry and Eggsy barked out a surprised laugh.

“No way,” he said, lying back down on the bed and patting the space next to him. “Knew you were a libertine under all them fancy clothes. Okay, so. How many've you been with?”

“How many have you?” Harry coolly countered, placing himself next to him. The bed was wide enough to accompany them both. Just.

Eggsy made a face. “Who m'I gonna be with at camp? Okay, so I did a bit with a couple of the nicer girls and boys, but nothing. All the way. Like that.” He had gone a delightful shade of red.

“I see,” said Harry. “Well, if you must know, I lost count years ago. A number. Men and women.”

“You prefer men or women?” asked Eggsy, the brazen look returning gamely.

Harry shrugged. “It depends on the time. The mood. The situation.”

“So no types at all?”

“I don't know. Mouthy delinquents with secretly pleasant natures seem to catch my eye more often than not.” He wasn't sure what had make him say it. Maybe the push of Eggsy's presence had finally chipped away at his resolve enough to give way to a little too much honesty.

Eggsy went a quiet for a few moments as Harry turned his head to look at him.

“Dunno about me,” Eggsy finally said. “Will have to find out someday I guess.”

Harry suddenly remembered what Eggsy had told him only a second ago; that he had never made love, or even fucked before. Tonight was not the right night for either of these things. Wrong time. Wrong mood. Wrong everything. “Get some sleep,” he said. “Enjoy your first night in a bed. I suspect in the city you'll grow tired of them soon enough.”

Eggsy perked up a little at that. “Doubt it,” he smiled and moved down the bed, turning his body on his side towards Harry. “Gotta admit it's pretty soft.”

Harry snorted. “This is nothing compared to the palace. Although in my barracks we used to sleep on wooden boards.”

Eggsy laughed. “This has gotta be like a fucking cloud to you after that,” he said.

They continued to talk for a long time before Eggsy fell asleep. Harry lay for a while longer, almost afraid to move in case he woke him up. Eventually he managed to fall asleep and stirred to Eggsy slinging an arm around him a number of hours later. Outside, the sun had slowly begun to rise. He shuffled a little, trying to dislodge Eggsy's arm without waking him, but there was a soft sound and Eggsy blinked a few times, making a sleepy noise of contentment.

“Yeah, I'm into beds,” he mumbled.

“Lucky you there are going to be plenty where we're going.” Harry got up, the release of Eggsy's arm more abrupt than he had intended. “There's no rush,” he said as Eggsy made to do the same. He promptly flopped back down again. “I'll see about something to eat,” said Harry, leaving Eggsy to looking unfairly beautiful on the mattress and giving himself a moment to breathe a few times once outside the room, before heading downstairs. The barkeeper smirked at him and he weathered a few attempted comments about how well the two of them had slept last night with vague politeness that brooked no further questions as to how the bed had been used.

The two of them left, but not before the lad who had shown them to their room urged them to be careful. It seemed that in time with the forthcoming announcement of the princesses upcoming marriage a number of outlaws had gathered around the outskirts of the kingdom to hinder the passage of visitors.

Harry paid him generously and they headed off through ever-thickening trees. Within the next day they should reach proper woodland. Eggsy wore his new clothes, despite Harry making the point that they still had a couple of days left before they were going to get there. “But you promised me new clothes then as well, right?” Eggsy winked, before spurring his horse on whilst Harry was left to shake his head and smile. Then he shook his own reigns and his mare sprang forward, quickly passing Eggsy before he could react. They ended up racing each other for a short while, before unanimously and without speaking to one another slowed down to an easy canter. Eggsy laughed and flipped his slightly sweaty hair out of his face.

Harry smiled lightly back at him.

Then stopped.

“Eggsy, down!” he yelled, briefly noting with relief that he had done so – successfully avoiding the arrow that would otherwise have embedded itself in his throat – whilst drawing his sword and knocking away the one aimed at himself. The men that came from behind the patch of trees numbered at eight, not a group that would worry Harry usually, but with Eggsy there and the added difficulty of two crossbows it gave him a moment's pause before he rode towards them. He had time before the two of them managed to reload.

Next to him it seemed that Eggsy had realised the same, because he had drawn his own sword and was heading towards the other man. Harry steeled his confidence in Eggsy's ability to take care of himself before knocking away the sword of the first attacker and expertly dismounting from his horse. They weren't trained fighters, nor did they have horses of their own. Just ruthless men who thought they had found two travellers to prey upon. It made cutting a swathe through them easy, a thoughtless act, and four of them were dead in seconds. The crossbows were both trained on him, but he was close to the first and ducked beneath the weapon to bury his sword in the man's stomach, bringing the body up to protect himself for when the other fired at him. But he never did, because Eggsy had managed to dispose of his own opponents and sank his sword into the man's chest, below the ribs and up. The man died slowly, spattering Eggsy with blood.

Harry immediately came up to him and pulled him back from the corpse. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Eggsy nodded, eyes a little glazed. “Killed them,” he said vaguely. “What do we do with them?”

“Leave them here,” said Harry. “The proper authorities will eventually find them. Until then a dishonest man may feel fear in passing this place.” He was keenly aware of the irony of saying those words, but the thrill of the fight and the immediate concern for Eggsy quickly overshadowed his pang of guilt.

Eggsy nodded again, now perking up a little despite the initial surprise of having been in an attack and suddenly finding it over. “Lucky they went for you.”

“I'm surprised they thought you the easier target. You seemed very confident.”

“Yeah, yeah old man. Think you look pretty terrifying when you're pissed off.”

Harry smiled. It had been awhile since he had killed anyone and the heady adrenalin of a fight always made him feel alive. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

Eggsy nodded, the smile slipping. “I never... before...”

“... Ah.” He stepped closer, still checking him over with his eyes, despite Eggsy's assurance. There was a nick on his arm. “Your tunic,” he said.

Eggsy looked down, only now seeming to notice. “Shit,” he said. “And it was new and all.”

Harry took hold of his arm and lifted it. “It's shallow,” he said, running a finger lightly across his skin. “But we should rinse it in case of infection.”

He was suddenly aware of how close they stood and let go of Eggsy's arm.

“Harry,” said Eggsy.

And kissed him.

Harry somehow couldn't move away, his brain not able to think up all the reasons that had existed as to why he could not let this happen. His lips parted slightly and he felt Eggsy's tongue slip between them slowly, carefully. He was asking for permission and Harry was giving it to him. His eyes fell shut and he moved closer, his hand on Eggsy's chest feeling his thundering heartbeat, responding to him eagerly now-

“No.”

He pulled back suddenly. For a second Eggsy moved with him, surprised that they were no longer kissing. “Huh?” he said, eyes slightly heavy and dull, but quickly giving way to sharp confusion. “Thought... Harry, what-?”

“Eggsy. I'm sorry. This is my fault.”

“What, you mean getting attacked or getting snogged, cos you started neither of those.”

“No,” said Harry again. “I...I've been dishonest towards you. About the purpose behind our journey.”

Eggsy was now frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Your mother asked me to bring you to Tilde's court, it's true, but not to become a knight.” He paused. “You're going to marry her, Eggsy.”

“What? You can't... Harry, what the fuck do you mean? I'm just common, I can't marry a fucking princess!”

“You're not. Eggsy your father was a king. Arthur killed him and you and your mother escaped across the sea. That necklace you wear bears the royal sigil, all of this... it's to get you safely to her so that the two of you can marry, for the good of the kingdom. You have to do this.”

The silence stretched on.

“Right,” said Eggsy finally. “Right. And, uh, when were you thinking of telling me? Halfway through the fucking ceremony or after the party?”

Harry grimaced. “Trust me, I didn't want to lie to you about this, but your mother insisted that it was safer. I hardly planned on you kissing me!”

“Riiight,” Eggsy nodded slowly. “Cos you were really against that, weren't you. You know, from the way you've been looking me up and down since we met, can tell I misread that one. Were just measuring me for some nice wedding clothes, weren't you.”

“Eggsy,” Harry sighed.

“Nah, just... fuck. Just forget any of this happened.” Eggsy turned away from him and quickly walked back to his horse, seemingly without any questions left to ask.

Harry sighed again, deeper, and followed. “Eggsy.” Eggsy turned. His body was taut and Harry longed to touch it again, but stopped a hand-span away. “I need to be sure that you're still coming. This... alliance -” Eggsy scoffed, “- is crucial. Not only for the kingdom, but for your family's future.”

At that the fight seemed to go out of him, his arms going around his waist as though hugging himself, averting Harry's gaze. “Yeah. Course. Thanks for reminding me.” Then he continued to his horse and this time Harry let him go, merely mounting his own and continuing the journey, the corpses lying in the cool shade.

These last few days were going to be hellish, he thought.

 

*******************

 

He wasn't wrong.

They didn't speak at all as they finally reached the woods, nor when they stopped for the night. They were both aware that it was unlikely that any of the inns or taverns along the way would have any more space open than their last one had and therefore avoided sleeping at any of them, preferring to ride into the night and make camp under the trees. Eggsy didn't ask him any more questions and Harry didn't offer to begin a conversation. Two more nights he told himself. Then at least this part of the pretence was over and he could leave Eggsy to his upcoming nuptials.

They could be sure that there would be no more ambushes inside the forests, as they were closely watched by the princesses army – the forest an extension of the city itself and crawling with military and civilians alike. They city was partly embedded into snowy mountain, and the continually sloping terrain told them that they were closing in on it even if it was well-hidden by the trees.

They very suddenly hit the edge of the woods and Eggsy couldn't help but gasp out loud. Harry refrained from any outward displays of wonder, but he had been right. They were both impressed. When last he had been here, the castle had stood mostly alone, with barracks and houses for those who worked there. It was over twenty years ago. Lee had been with him and he had been one of a few of the royal guard there to protect the crown prince on his peace-missive to the north. It had grown exponentially, but Harry could still recognise the sensation of something ancient before them, the castle a part of a culture so old that many of its former customs and languages were not even spoken by those who resided there now. It had however not been very long ago that the feuding minor lords and ladies had finally gathered under one leader – a family that was a conglomeration of the tribes, which now culminated in the princess.

Her marriage to an Unwin would serve the dual purpose of strengthening the cultural influences to this part of the world, as well as declare the beginnings of hostilities towards Arthur's hold on the realm immediately across the narrow seas. Part of the need for secrecy was that the declaration of war was meant to take him by surprise. Harry knew, of course, that Arthur's spies at court were more deeply embedded than the princess could have foreseen and he therefore knew all about Eggsy. It was why he was now here.

The clearing up to the city gates was wide, probably with the intention of in future continuing the growth of the wider township, as well as making it easy to see anyone who approached. They were a part of a longer procession of travellers and were forced to wait in a long queue that had Harry on the verge of committing mass-murder rather than having to listen to another hour of their neighbour telling them about his goal to set up a shop in town from which to sell his chickens. Simply mounting his horse and riding to the front and declaring that he was bringing the future king didn't seem like a good idea though, as they were meant to be travelling undercover.

Eggsy had replaced his bloodied tunic and breeches for his old ones the first day in the woods and Harry assumed that he had disposed of the clothes that he had given him. Like this, Eggsy looked like his poor assistant and Harry like the nobleman. At least Eggsy seemed to enjoy speaking with the others in the queue and provoked a great deal of good humour in the otherwise bored queuers.

When they finally reached the gates they were asked to identify themselves and by now the thought of having to wade through the groups of people to reach the inner rings and the castle itself had proven enough of a grate on Harry's patience that he had decided to cut through pleasantries. He handed them his seal. “My name is Harry Hart. I have a message for princess Tilde.” he said.

The whispering started up, a few seconds of shocked silence. Then the soldier's expression turned to ice. “Seize them both,” he said and Harry allowed himself and Eggsy to be roughly shackled and dragged to a prison transport.

“What the fuck?!” hissed Eggsy when it began to trundle an easy path through the thick crowds.

Harry shrugged. “Fastest way to get to the castle is to be arrested as a spy. My name in these parts is... particularly well known. They'll want to see us right away.”

Eggsy scoffed out a laugh, eyes rolling, before sitting back in an absurdly wide-legged sprawl. “If I get my head chopped off before I marry the princess I'm blaming you.”

 

*******************

 

They reached the castle a couple of hours later. Neither had said anything beyond their opening exchange, Eggsy preferring to look out of the barred window at the city; although he did at one point mumble, “not how I expected to see this the first time.”

There was a lot Harry wanted to say. About how he would show it to him properly. How they could go out and find some clothes in the traditional styles together. How he remembered it from back then and whether any of the eating places that he had once enjoyed still existed. But he knew that it would all be a lie. Eggsy would no-doubt not be allowed outside the castle walls once they entered, except for when riding through with the royal guard. Certainly not allowed to explore. He kept silent, as they cut a swathe through marketplace vendors, travellers and locals, and at one point, an angrily shouting mob that decried everything from Tilde to magic-users to foreigners. It took a moment to get through them, with the way they banged on the side of the carriage, demanding the execution of all criminals. They were the only less amiable aspect to the view though, even if it was seen through bars.

The gates to the interior ring opened for them and clanged shut behind them with a heavy finality. They drove for a few more minutes through courtyards and into a side-entrance. At last the doors were opened and both of them pulled through.

“What do we do with this one?” one of the guards said, shoving Eggsy, who stumbled after the hours sitting in confinement with chains around his wrists and ankles.

“I wouldn't harm him,” said Harry pleasantly and received a slap across the face for his trouble. He raised his head, prepared to receive another when Eggsy's voice rang out.

“Slap him again and the future king's gonna have your heads on spikes by morning.” Everyone turned to look at him. He held himself straight and regal.

“You?” laughed the head guard suddenly.

“Check the fucking pendant,” said Eggsy.

He was wearing it around his neck and the first guard tentatively touched it, before all of them fell to their knees.

“Your majesty, we had expected... you to arrive differently,” said the head of the guards.

“It's alright,” said Eggsy, a little of his royal manner dropping. “We all make mistakes.”

They were quickly uncuffed and brought through a number of doors towards the throne room. Whilst being led, the rumours of their arrival clearly grew and a few servants appeared offering refreshments, as well as one particularly incensed man who tried to undress Eggsy as he was walking in order that he should be presented with the _proper attire._ After having successfully thrown them all off, the two of them stood relatively alone in front of a huge door that was made of thick wood and glared austerely down at them.

“You look fine,” said Harry softly.

“... thanks.” The doors were opened for them and they entered.

Before them stood a hall befitting the kinds of doors they had just walked through. It was carved directly into the stony mountain, the only flourish the polished marble of the floor, which glinted reflectively white. Where it was bare architecturally, it bore numerous tapestries and banners representing each of the tribes, as well as the long history of the country. At the far end the largest banner bore the royal sigil and hung over two large thrones hewn out of the same rock as the room. They were deep in the mountain, hearing from somewhere a faint rustling of underground springs.

One of the two thrones sat empty, the princess occupying the other. She seemed taller than Harry knew she was, her tied-back blonde hair standing out in the greyness and darkened colours of her surroundings and her face calm and arresting.

On each side of her throne were six chairs, the left inhabited by the six elected members of the tribal council and the right by representatives of the country's wider partner realms. Harry could see the vastness of the kingdom's size in the people who were present.

Where some were as pale as the princess, others were the tanned of sea-states, as well as midnight dark of the south. He recognised several of her allies, Raziya he had met personally, having then been as captivated by her dark eyes and obvious intelligence as he was now. She was from far to the south and member of a kingdom that Arthur had long tried to woo into union. In honour of that union Harry had spent several nights tied up in her bedchambers, something which he could see from her recognition of him that she remembered with as much pleasure as he did.

Until this moment Harry had not been aware of just how far Tilde's influence reached. It was impressive. Even Arthur had not known. Harry was sure that this was the first time they had all gathered as a show of strength for when the wedding happened. Behind her stood a row of twelve shadowed women, all bearing arms.

Eggsy began to fidget.

“Kneel,” Harry murmured to him, when they were halfway there.

Eggsy glanced at him and followed his direction.

Head bent down, Harry took the lead. “I am guessing that you were warned of our coming?”

“Yes,” answered Tilde. “Although not that it would be quite such an interesting arrival.” Her voice was a faintly accented version of a southern tongue, presuming correctly that Eggsy couldn't speak her language. “You have been here before, Hart. When yours and my kingdom were friends. I'm surprised that you were the one to bring my future husband.” She took on a more curious tone of voice. “May I see your face, Gary Unwin?”

Eggsy lifted his head. “It's Eggsy,” he said.

“Eggy?”

“Nah, Eggsy.” He grinned slightly. There was a stirring through the council.

“Eggsy,” said Tilde and smiled. “You are very welcome. Unfortunately your travelling companion is not.” She glanced behind her and four of the women stepped forward. Harry sharply raised his head, but didn't make a move to stand.

Eggsy did though. “What are you doing?”

A man to Tilde's left spoke, older, a little flabby. Harry was sure he recognised him from the old days. “Galahad is an enemy to this state. He killed many of our men during the wars of twenty years ago.”

“And he is working for the man who killed your father,” said a woman to Tilde's right matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, well, not any more,” said Eggsy as the guards made another move forward. He now faced off the leader of the guards, a short woman who seemed able to kill with her eyes. “He saved my life. More than once. He's helping me. I need him!”

There was a quiet murmur of discussion, until finally Tilde stood and everyone stopped. “Alright, you vouch for him. He is under your protection.”

Harry shot a grateful look in his direction, but Eggsy didn't seem to be paying attention to him.

He nodded. “Great. Thanks. And, uh. Now what?”

“Now? Servants will be here to show you to your rooms. Tomorrow begins your training.”

Eggsy frowned. “Training?”

Tilde smiled again from where she stood. “Yes. If you are to help me lead this country, you will have to know its history, language, culture, military manoeuvres, as well as dress codes and how to behave when in the halls.” She glanced pointedly at where Eggsy still stood single-handedly facing down her private guard and Eggsy blushed slightly, taking a step back, with the sudden awareness that he had probably trampled half a dozen conventions in the dirt within a span of a couple of minutes. “And also those customs of our friends.” She nodded graciously at the people to her right.

Servants entered and Harry bowed his head again as Eggsy was politely but firmly led from the gathering.

He stayed that way as the council-members began to stand and leave, filing past him. At last, a hand was put on his shoulder and he lifted his gaze to find that only himself and princess Tilde were left. She was frowning slightly. “You were loyal to Lee, once. When he and my parents worked together. If that is what you want again, you will protect his son.”

Harry looked into her sharp, intelligent eyes. “I promise,” he said, swallowing the lie and burying it deep inside himself with all the others, a roiling mass that by now threatened to expose themselves by crawling out of his skin like worms in the dirt. He buried them deeper.

Tilde released his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “You were always the best of them, my mother told me.”

The lie coiled itself indolently inside him, content to be pushed down, for now. So Harry said, with the sound of complete conviction: “I would never let anyone harm him.”


	3. The Prince's Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There Citherea goddesse was and quene,  
> Honowred highly for her majestie;  
> And eke her sonne, the myghty god, I wene,  
> Cupyde the blynde, that for his dignyté  
> A mille lovers worship on theire kne.  
> There was I bidde, in payn of deth, to pere  
> By Marcury, the wynged messengere.
> 
> So than I went be straunge and ferre contrees,  
> Enquiryng ay whate costes that it drewe,  
> The Courte of Love; and thiderward as bees,  
> At last I se the peple gan pursue.  
> Anon me thought som wight was there that knewe  
> Where that the courte was holden, ferre or nye,  
> And aftir thaim full faste I gan me hie. 
> 
> \- Geoffrey Chaucer "Court Of Love"

Eggsy's Story

*******************

 

Eggsy swung his sword confidently, smirking at his opponent, a jumped-up prick by the name of Charlie who was currently trying not to wheeze from the last elbow he'd gotten in the stomach. “You alright there Charlie-boy?” said Eggsy.

In response Charlie snarled and suddenly lunged in his direction, but Eggsy had been prepared to meet it and effortlessly swiped his sword away, side-stepping so Charlie ended up in a heap on the ground.

“That's enough,” came Roxy's calm voice from the side. “I think you boys have had enough fun, thank you Charlie.”

Charlie stood, for a second looking like he might want to attack Eggsy again, but a pointed look from the head of princess Tilde's personal bodyguard had him turning to leave with a snort and a muttered insult.

“What was that Charlie?” said Eggsy cheerfully.

“Nothing. Your highness,” he bit out at the end, before finally clearing off.

“No bowing,” Eggsy tutted as he disappeared.

Roxy poked him. “Don't let this get to your head. Only a few weeks ago and he was besting you in every match.”

“I'm not, I'm just enjoying the bowing is all,” grinned Eggsy, lifting his sword. “Want a go?”

“Hm,” she smirked and drew her sword. “Alright. Best out of one, we both have duties to attend to.”

Eggsy had seen men underestimate her small stature and innocently batting eyelashes as a sign that they could win against her – he noticed that she and Harry used similar tactics of seeming too benign and pretty to be a serious threat. These men did not tend to last long, unless of course Roxy wanted the battle to draw out for the fun of it.

Her light brown ponytail jumped behind her as she swung at him and he managed to block it easily, answering with a set of swings and steps that Harry had taught him, but now with far more self-confidence than he had had whilst they were practising on the road together. He knew that Roxy could still beat him, easily, but with a few well-placed manoeuvres he might get lucky enough to come in close and use his superior strength against her.

The chance presented itself only a few strikes later, when he let her come in close to attack, a feint that allowed him to grab hold of her sword arm – only to lie flat on his back a second later, the tip of Roxy's blade at his throat, a foot on his chest, and a grip on his arm that hurt enough for him to relinquish his weapon. “Fuck,” he panted, grinning. “How do you _do_ that?”

“Training,” she smiled sweetly back at him and let go. “And now, it's time for you to tend to your responsibilities. Your highness.”

Eggsy wrinkled his nose and stood, brushing himself off. “Don't appreciate it as much when you're doing it.”

“So you don't want me to bow?”

Eggsy laughed and playfully nudged her. “Don't you fucking dare.”

“And don't you swear at the elects.”

Eggsy groaned.

“Part of being a prince,” said Roxy. “Go, take a bath. Look vaguely future-kingly please, or I'll look like I'm not doing my job right.”

“Thought your job was making sure Tilde dressed right?” said Eggsy, a small knowing grin on his face.

“Mhm. And technically Harry should be in charge of you, but since I'm here and he's not I have to take care of two royal idiots. Now go.”

The grin took a downward turn and Eggsy sighed. “Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit.”

 

*******************

 

By now Eggsy had been at Tilde's court for almost a month, at the end of which he was going to be presented to the people as Tilde's partner and king. In all this time he hadn't left the castle once, but he had spent a ridiculous amount of time hearing about wedding preparations that he and Tilde were meant to decide on – Eggsy had never thought that so much could go into this ceremony, but so far he had resided over the choices of decorations, flowers, choir, a massive seating plan, food, the route that he and Tilde would be walking through the castle both before and after, as well as a dozen other factors that Eggsy could never have predicted, because it was important to make sure that nobody at the wedding was offended, or thought that their patronage or allyship to princess Tilde was worth less than anybody else's.

The worst of all, so far, was deciding on how the consummation would happen. Eggsy had blushed and turned to Tilde, stuttering, “Didn't know there was anything to talk about there,” to which the dozen minor and major elects, textile merchants, physicians, and a few of the representatives looked absolutely shocked, although he noted that a couple seemed to agree with him that it was none of their business. Adeola, the same woman who had on the first day of their arrival pointed out Harry's complicity in his father's death, seemed downright amused.

Tilde silenced any mutterings before they could begin with a look, and turned to murmur to Eggsy, “it is a nightmare discussing this, is it not.” Louder she proclaimed, “we shall continue tomorrow!” with another imperious glance around the halls, daring anybody to disagree. None did. They all slowly began to file out in that dull, slow way they always did, which meant Eggsy got to sit on his throne and kick his heels until at last it was his turn, despite the fact that his tutors had told him that this was a time for ceremonial, regal silence. Today, Tilde seemed not to care either, leaning in close. “I am afraid that there are many traditions concerning the first night. They come from a history of kings and queens claiming that it did not happen in order to get rid of their partners. So it is often customary for the night to be watched. We were about to discuss if it should be by only a maid or servant, or if more should be there. In one case I know that all the wedding guests stood around them.”

At Eggsy's steadily more petrified face, she laughed, softly. “Do not worry. I will take care of it. Tomorrow you must sadly be busy and so do not have to take part in this particular planning.”

“But... what if..?”

“I promise, nobody will be there,” she said, flicking back an errant blonde hair that had come undone from where the rest had been severely pulled back in a bun. “I can be very persuasive.” Eggsy knew that. With her looks, tenacity, and intellect, it was very hard to imagine that anyone could say no to her. Certainly he had no qualms about letting her set the terms for how their wedding night would proceed as he had an inkling that she had much more practise than he did, and if she let him take the lead he was very sure it would be mortifying, regardless of whether anybody was there to witness it or not. He smiled to cover up the nerves, and hurried out.

True to her word, Eggsy was caught up in lessons the entirety of the following day, meaning he was spared further talk of how soft the bed should be, how many pillows they needed, how thin the veil between them and the room was, and –forever unbeknownst to him – a lengthy discussion on his predicted virility and stamina.

Beyond the official planning, Eggsy was also being instructed in learning the manners of court, the correct method of eating, how to address nobility from various states, as well as military manoeuvres, history, geography, politics, culture, and dancing. Surprisingly, fighting was not considered a necessity, but Roxy insisted upon it. No royalty could be respected if they couldn't fight. “I've been teaching Tilde myself,” she said proudly.

“I bet you have,” Eggsy muttered and was deservedly knocked to the ground in the next bout.

 

*******************

 

When he and Harry had first arrived the frosty silence between them had to be pushed aside in favour of him being in charge of teaching Eggsy how to behave at court. The first week had been torturous, not only because neither spoke to the other unless necessary, but also because Eggsy had quickly come to the realisation that nobody here liked him, barring Tilde herself and those of her private all-woman guard that he had met, as well as a few of the representatives of other kingdoms, such as Adeola and Raziya, whose countries were far enough out that they were frequently just as bewildered and occasionally mildly offended by the customs here as Eggsy was. Tilde, however, had duties of her own and moreover it was apparently unseemly for the bride and groom to converse too much before the union, beyond the planning that was usually carried out by the parents of the two suitors. Since that was impossible on this occasion, Tilde had decided that she was in charge of spearheading the celebrations, which caused some consternation amongst the more traditionalistic of her court. At least this gave Eggsy some time to get to know her better, even if it was in full view of members of the council and the wedding-planners.

Roxy, meanwhile, seemed to have taken it upon herself to watch over him, although he had the sneaking suspicion that she was reporting his every move back to Tilde – he was also almost completely certain that Roxy was as infatuated with her charge as Eggsy was with Harry.

More than anything he wanted to tell him that all was forgiven and they could move on and forget everything that had happened on the journey here, but this required that he opened his fucking mouth and actually acknowledged that there was something to forgive. Which would also mean acknowledging that he had kissed him, which was still too raw an embarrassment for him to even dwell on for too long on his own without the object of his affection there to openly pity his poor judgement. Not that thinking about anything else was any good either. His upcoming union filled him with dread, thinking of his family saddened him, and his life at the moment consisted mostly of being disapproved of by various servants, tutors, and lords and ladies. Thinking about Harry at least made him feel better, as did touching himself at night to said thoughts to get rid of his tension.

In that sense it was a good thing that Harry stuck around, even though he was being as vaguely polite with him as he was with everyone else, which made Eggsy intermittently want to kiss him again or punch him in the face; whichever was more likely to get an honest reaction. Being on the receiving end of Harry Hart's blank facade was grating.

By the end of the first five days Eggsy was at his wits end, bored out of his skull, and missing his family. If this was life from now on, it was going to be hell. Even the bed did not seem as good as he'd hoped it would be, far softer than the one he had lain on at the inn and feeling like it was attempting to swallow him. Eventually Eggsy had simply moved to the floor, despite how stressed the servants were about it, although they never said anything, but simply put the bedding back onto the mattress every morning in a silent battle of the wills.

Every morning began the same: his attendant, a man of his own age called Jamal, who was training to be a kingsman in his own right, entered his bedroom with a platter of fruits and meat , then went to draw him a bath whilst he ate. On the first day he had been shocked to find out that it was apparently normal for the attendant – or a lady in waiting, if he desired – to bathe him as well and he had hurriedly sent Jamal out with an explicit request that he always did this alone.

Dressing, unfortunately, was not something that could be done without assistance, as the northerners had ridiculous customs regarding their clothing. A complicated design had a series of cloths that were bound together by two extremely long pieces of thread – this, Roxy had told him, was a way to preserve heat, as they created layers through which the skin could breathe, but not be assailed by the cold of winter. It also made it easy to remove the clothes, as one simply had to pull the threads out and they all fell to the floor, but it was much harder to put on if you didn't know how it all fit together. Somehow it did, but that was just the underlayer. A pair of unnecessarily complicated breeches were laced to his legs, as well as a jacket with a high collar, which after almost choking from the annoyance of it on the first day of having to have it laced to the top, he had firmly insisted should be open at all times. At least that way he could throw it off whenever he was alone.

When he had complained to Harry, one of the few times that they had spoken beyond formalities, he had simply raised a vaguely bemused eyebrow. “You should learn the customs and rules of your future kingdom.”

“Notice you've got your stuff looking the same,” Eggsy had pointed out, poking disgruntledly at Harry's beautifully designed and conspicuously easy to put on tunic.

“I am representing my culture. Besides, I know how to dress in the northern styles on my own. Once you have figured out the knack, I'm sure you'll have more freedom to decide when to do so.”

Eggsy had snorted. “Bet you're lying.”

Harry had simply given him a cryptic half-smile and left him to his studies.

He was strangely upset that it hadn't been Harry to bring him his first real suit, helped him put it on, watched him swanning around in it to get comfortable. In fact, the first time Harry had seen him dressed in something new at the castle, he had barely reacted at all and Eggsy hadn't wanted to press the point in public.

However, the day after he had complained to him about the difficulty of all that lacing, he had returned to his bedroom intent on flopping face-first onto his bed and never getting up again, but had stopped short when seeing a few packages laid neatly out on his pillows. Opening them, he had found them to contain a few simple shirts, jackets, and trousers. A note placed on top of them bore Harry's curly, flamboyant writing: _All that lacing must be annoying, although it suits you. These will last until winter. You will appreciate the laces then. Yours faithfully HH._

Eggsy guiltily kept the note under his pillow, but wore the clothes happily. They were tailored perfectly to his body and he remembered every time he put them on Harry's comment about knowing his measurements merely by looking at him. He had wondered many times how often Harry had looked at him, as well as a dozen less honourable fantasies involving Harry on his knees whilst he asked him to measure something else.

It frustrated him, these persistent emotions he had, when it was clear that Harry wasn't interested. Since he was getting married it didn't matter anyway and he only wished he would be free of them sooner rather than later and he and Harry could be friends. On the other hand, Harry had yet to apologise for lying to him, which was almost equally bothersome. He had known the entire time about his father, must have been a part of his guard when the coup had happened, and yet he neither offered an explanation, nor seemed regretful of having withheld the information from him.

He finally snapped on the eighth day of his training. An exceptionally boring morning was being followed by an incredibly dull afternoon of what he had hoped would be far more fun than the reality had proven to be: Wine tasting.

Before him stood one hundred of the preferred flavours of the various courtiers, councillors, nobility, and other important guests who would be at his wedding. He was to take a sip out of a tiny glass and name the wine, origin, and who enjoyed it, as well as naming its main flavours. After that he was meant to spit it out. Eggsy had cheated numerous times and was by now on his way to being heartily drunk. His tutor had left in a disgusted rage, grumbling about the ineffectiveness of blood when the breeding had clearly been so lacklustre.

“Can't talk like that to the future king,” Eggsy had yelled after him, and then slumped back in his chair. After a few moments of stewing, he had given in and gulped down a few more glasses.

The door opened. Harry entered.

“I hear you're terrorising the teachers again,” he said, just as horribly pleasant as if Eggsy were no more than any young man he might meet in the castle.

“Yeah,” said Eggsy grumpily. “Just told him if he wants me to appreciate the wine, why'm I spitting it out again? Anyway, they all taste the same.” He drank another. “And they're all in these fucking thimbles, look at it. Can't get drunk off of this.”

“And yet you managed,” said Harry.

Eggsy narrowed his eyes. “You're one to talk, you fucking lush. Is it because you're nervous around here or because you just need some help sleeping every fucking day?”

Harry's face didn't change, but the temperature seemed to drop. “Both, actually. I don't sleep much here.”

“Cos they all hate you,” said Eggsy. “Cos you didn't help my dad or my mum, or me.”

“Eggsy...” said Harry, warning now creeping in.

“Well, yeah, you're helping now. Now that you don't have a precious king do go crawling back to. I'm your second- third after my dad I guess, choice.” Eggsy stood. Surprisingly he wasn't as drunk as he'd thought, just angry.

“You're not,” said Harry.

“Yeah? Then why didn't you tell me any of this when we were on the road? Why'd you wait until we were almost here and I'd already made a fucking idiot of myself? Did you like stringing me around like that, knowing what you did and that I was gonna get a big surprise when I got here?”

“Of course not,” said Harry. “Eggsy...” he sighed. “The day your father died... I gave you that pendant. I helped you and your mother out of the castle and gave that to you so it would be possible to find you again and to make sure you had a reminder. I always intended for you to regain your legacy. But you needed to be of-age, you needed a partner who was of royal blood in their own right. Someone who could help you. The opportunity didn't arrive until now. I didn't want... I just wanted to help you, however I could.”

“Then why didn't you just _tell_ me?” Eggsy's voice became smaller. He wished it wouldn't. The anger had felt more powerful, more just.

“Honestly?” said Harry. “I wanted to see who you were first. And you are your father's son. He would be very proud.”

Eggsy believed him. Mostly. He still had the feeling that something was missing, but for now he couldn't see anything but Harry, helping him out of loyalty to his father, staying with him despite his anger, keeping him safe. He didn't know what to say.

“You know,” said Harry quietly. “We haven't continued your swordsmanship training since we arrived.”

“Yeah?”

Harry nodded. “I'd still rather you knew how to defend yourself, even if I am around. Which I may not always be.”

Eggsy frowned at the last bit. “You leaving?”

“Temporarily. The princess has requested I do a small job for her, I believe as a test.”

“I vouched for you, shouldn't have to fucking prove yourself-” said Eggsy, decision halfway made up to confront his wife-to-be straight away.

“Eggsy,” Harry said, in that slightly exasperated (fond, Eggsy couldn't help thinking) tone of his. “It's a good thing. Nobody should be permitted to guard the crown without first proving their loyalty, especially not someone who was once a trusted servant to their enemy. I won't be gone long.”

When Eggsy failed to look completely mollified, Harry raised an eyebrow. “Now, I cannot teach you swordsmanship without a sword, so we should find you a good one. Although perhaps one day we should look at hand-to-hand combat; you never know.”

The thought of Harry pinning him down, or – fuck the gods – him pinning _Harry_ down was enough to release Eggsy's tension for the rest of the week. The chance to attack people with swords and then various other weaponry helped with the rest.

 

*******************

 

Eggsy washed and changed quickly after his bout with Charlie, as usual favouring the clothes that Harry had given him. Since he had left he had taken to wearing them even more, partly out of missing him and partly because he wasn't there to tut at him for not dressing for the council. Then he made his way to the smaller hall, which was where most of the political discussions were held when not of immediate import. Eggsy wasn't invited to the more pressing meetings, seeing as he didn't yet hold any actual power over the proceedings, nor the background to understand everything that was spoken of. But a part of his lessons included him becoming involved in the daily affairs of the kingdom, something which he could respect, even if it wasn't always enjoyable.

Tilde wasn't there today, but a number of her elects, as well as Valentine and his partner, Gazelle, were waiting for him. This was new. Usually Eggsy either had Tilde or Harry next to him as his support. He didn't know if anyone else even approved of him, never mind wanted to hear him out on the running of a kingdom. Sophie, who sat at Tilde's council was always a friendly ear he had noticed, but neither she nor the representatives whom he generally considered on his side were present. It was Tilde's five other elects and three of the representatives with whom he hadn't spoken to who joined him today. He didn't let it show, but noticed who seemed to sniff at his simple clothes and who didn't care. Valentine even laughed and gave him a friendly pat on the back as he went to sit down around the circular table.

Valentine was strange – a jovial, likeable man, who seemed far too mellow to be a wizard. But where he appeared benign, Gazelle was ominous. He had seen her in the practise ring, taking on several opponents, and she knew how to handle any weapon better than Eggsy could ever hope to. She also had the added advantage of her legs. Where they once may have been ordinary, they were now cut off at the knee and fixed to them where metallic fakeries which could extend and resheath two blades. When she walked across the stone or marble floors of the castle they clinked to announce her presence, but Eggsy had at times disconcertingly not noticed her entering a room.

He had been amazed when he had first seen her use her blades to incapacitate her opponents, one notch away from opening up the last one's throat as she held her leg perfectly in place, raised towards him. She didn't break a sweat.

Roxy had told Eggsy that she had once seen her fight a dozen men with nothing but those legs and tear them all to pieces. “Why ain't she a part of the guard then?” Eggsy had asked.

Roxy had grimaced. “She's Valentine's partner. No loyalty to anybody but him. Even if she did want to, I wouldn't allow it.”

Eggsy knew that Valentine himself had created her legs for her, but he still didn't quite believe that they could work like they clearly did.

More than that though, where Valentine was amicable to the point of seeming foolish at times, Gazelle appeared always to be awaiting the order to kill. She always stood next to him, even sometimes offering council, but never attempting to forge any bonds beyond the single that she shared with her partner.

 

Today's meeting began with farming prices and Eggsy found himself drifting a few times to his favourite subject of Harry. It had turned out very early on that much of what Eggsy had thought about Harry had been utterly wrong – never mind that when he had first seen him in Dean's tent he had been on the verge of putting himself between Dean's thugs and the the idiotic man about to be murdered, before said man had somehow left his opponents beaten and bloodied behind him without even trying, or that he had thought him a soldier of fortune for a few days, or even how it had turned out that he had once served his father and that he had a filthy tongue on him when he wasn't pretending politeness. No, where he had most erred in his opinion of Sir Harry Hart was how very petty he could be when he didn't like something, and he despised formalities.

The very first time that Eggsy had been forced to attend a meeting on the going-ons of the kingdom Harry had surprisingly tried to duck out, before the servant had raised one eyebrow in his direction and delivered an acidic: “It is the first guard's duty to accompany the prince _wherever_ he goes.”

The open sigh from Harry's direction was a thing of beauty. “Let me get changed then.”

It turned out that “getting changed” was coded language for “if I'm going to be bored out of my skull, I may as well make sure that everybody else is distracted.” Harry had left for wherever his own chambers lay, meaning minutes of tense silence between himself and Jamal, who kept biting his lip as they grew evermore late.

Suddenly the doors to his rooms were flung open and there Harry stood, in northern fashion, and clearly having expertly dressed himself. Eggsy was torn between scowling at having lost the one-sided bet and trying to avoid his tongue hanging from his mouth, even though he had the feeling that feeding into Harry's vainness was a road to destruction.

But yes, he could acknowledge when not annoyed at the complexities of it that the northern fashion was gorgeous in its intricacies, as well as beautifully designed for each body that wore it, but he had not allowed himself any more than an annoyed relationship with it before Harry had single-handedly and in a moment destroyed all prejudice that Eggsy held, at least, as long as Harry was the one wearing it. Harry smiled at him and gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”

 

“Late,” said the oldest elect, a man named Halvik. He always sat on Tilde's left, sour and smirking, and seemed to dislike Eggsy's presence. Tilde was not there.

“Naturally,” answered Harry, pulling out Eggsy's chair for him.

Despite the two of them not being friendly yet, Eggsy couldn't help an amused quirk of the lips directed back at him before he sat.

“Thought Tilde'd be here,” said Eggsy.

“She presides over more important matters,” said Halvik briskly.

It was an introductory affair, simply summing up future duties, and then ignoring him in favour of discussing in their own language as though he wasn't there. He was unable to contain himself from openly rolling his eyes in Harry's direction, to his surprise finding it returned to him with an accompanying smirk.

Then Harry surprisingly barked out a single syllable word that Eggsy didn't understand and all conversation ceased. “Don't you think it's rude to not let the prince be a part of the discussion?” said Harry politely, now that all eyes were turned on him. “I can't help but think how the princess would react if anyone were to treat her partner with disrespect.”

“With disrespect?” asked the Halvik. “We would never dream-”

“I do not think that any of you would dream of thinking that he was less than her, but it would be easy to... misunderstand intentions. Who knows why; perhaps because of upbringing, or some other, ridiculous notion. Maybe because he comes from across the seas. There is after all a reason that nobles are born with such weak chins and I can see that Tilde is eager to not continue in that past-honoured tradition.”

Eggsy almost snorted into the silence, but managed to remain somewhat dignified, even if there was a small smile playing across his lips. The rest of the meeting passed with him understanding every word, as did all others.

 

*******************

 

When Harry left he did so without any ceremony, although he did say goodbye to Eggsy, knocking on his door early in the morning to wake him. He quirked his lips slightly upon seeing Eggsy look up from his mess of blankets and pillows on the floor. “Not fond of beds then?”

Eggsy blinked. “M'not awake,” he grumbled.

“I ordered us some breakfast.”

Eggsy responded with a prolonged groan, but sat up. Harry came to join him on the floor as Jamal and Ryan entered carrying food. Eggsy pointed at them. “You and you, go to bed. Just because one madman is up before the fucking sun, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be.”

They both exchanged a curiously knowing glance at each other, before leaving again. Eggsy immediately pulled the food closer and began to eat. “Why _are_ you here?” he said, the obvious answer presenting itself to him whilst he asked.

“I'll be going in a few minutes,” said Harry, confirming his suspicions. “I'm not sure how long I'll be gone.”

“Better be before four weeks,” said Eggsy.

“It will be,” he promised.

 

*******************

 

Eggsy's thoughts were suddenly distracted by Valentine speaking to him directly. “The princess has been avoiding the subject, but maybe you have something to say about king Arthur's plans?”

He realised that he hadn't heard a single word that had led to this new subject and he internally berated himself, his face carefully blank. This was a noble court, and unlike in Dean's tent, people had a tendency to mask their intentions until you had revealed your own, he had noticed. Whilst the act of politics came easily to Tilde and Harry, he still felt wrong-footed when asked for an opinion, unsure if he was being mocked or tricked.

“With the marriage, I don't think we've got a lot of time to talk about what happens afterwards,” he said, looking from person to person and noticing that he didn't have a single ally in this room. “But I'd hope that anything that happens will be peaceful.”

“Of course,” said the Halvik. “Peace is to be wished for. But if your enemy is gearing up for war, well...” he trailed off.

“Yeah, but we're not gonna be the first to start something,” protested Eggsy, voice rising a bit, despite his decision to remain as outwardly serene as those sitting around him.

“Oh, I agree!” said Valentine. “I mean, I have no stomach for violence. I see one drop of blood, that is me, done. I'm -” he mimicked vomiting.

Eggsy wasn't sure if that was helpful right now, but appreciated that he seemed to have someone on his side amongst what seemed to be a secret war-council.

“But...” said Valentine, suddenly, “we have the heir sitting here. Doesn't he want his crown back?”

Eggsy was taken off-guard. Naturally, Arthur resided over the lands his father had once ruled over, and he had wondered many times after discovering this whether he wanted revenge. But thoughts of this wedding and the intensive lessons he was receiving in order to be fit to rule had pushed any fleeting fantasy of perhaps wanting to be king to the wayside. That was, after all, exactly what was happening and it was much harder already than a week's worth of dreams had suggested to him it would be.

He suddenly had the idea that maybe there was a reason that everyone here consisted of people whom he had openly seen disagree with Tilde. Valentine though, he hadn't expected to want this. Then again, he didn't have much to say during the official meetings, as he wasn't an official elect. Maybe he was turning to Eggsy because he had a direct ear to the princess, albeit not often and only in public.

He put on his least impressed voice, a slight deliberate lilt of Harry's way of speaking tingeing it. “I think that's something to discuss with the queen, don't you? After the wedding, obviously.”

There was a slight ruffle of discomfort through the crowd. Some of those gathered clearly hadn't expected much of an answer on Eggsy's part. One of the other elects laughed. “Of course, of course. We merely suggest it to you now. It's something you must think about.”

 

After the stifling atmosphere of the meeting had been left behind, Eggsy wandered through the courtyards to the training rings. He hadn't seriously been thinking about himself on a throne until this moment, he realised. Not that this was his throne, of course. Here, he was a stranger whose name didn't mean too much to the people themselves. Then again, there was no guarantee that it wasn't exactly the same in his home country. Arthur had been reigning for over twenty years. Was there any call for Eggsy to even wish to return there in his father's place? His mother clearly had some hopes for him that she hadn't expressed before, but she wasn't here to ask for advice.

He suddenly turned around and headed towards Tilde's wing of the castle. For now, the two of them were separated entirely, she being watched by her personal guard and Eggsy by the official knights. He would have to get past both to see her.

She lived at the top of a tower in the innermost sanctum of the keep, which was of surprising benefit to Eggsy, as everything here was mired in shadows, even in the middle of the day. At first he merely walked as though he was headed out of doors to the inner gardens – a beautifully kept sanctuary that he had walked with Harry once – but once he got there, he immediately melted into a corner. From here he could see the tower. It would require some climbing to get to. He smiled.

Neither Harry nor Roxy, nor anyone beyond Dean's faraway encampment knew of Eggsy's hidden talents. He may have been only given a surface-level education in battle, but his natural affinity lay in thieving. There was, after all, a reason that he hadn't been killed by Dean's men long ago. He was good at what he did and they needed him.

He had lied to Harry when he had told him a few weeks ago that they had avoided cities. Eggsy had never slept a night in a tavern, but he had spent many in strangers' buildings and on the streets as a pick-pocket and thief. He knew how to scale a building. In fact, it had been too long.

He began by hoisting himself onto the roofs of the walls that surrounded the garden. Keeping himself low so that no one should see him, he walked quickly and surely to where the wall stood that blocked off the remainder of the castle to the princesses private quarters. It had guards that walked it in rotas that Eggsy took a short while to learn, concealed by the shadows of an alcove. There was no need for hurry.

Between it and the gardens was a drop onto the street below that threatened broken bones. Eggsy eyed it, plotting his path to the windows on the other side and the bars that were embedded in them, before taking his first jump and managing to cleanly reach catch onto them. They creaked, but held.

Next came the cracks between the stones that Eggsy clambered up with ease, moving up and sideways like a monkey, until he reached the corner of the wall. This position was more precarious as he could be seen easily, but it offered him more handholds and he reached the top feeling giddy with excitement.

Now, however, he stood on the parapet, with only a few seconds before the next guard came along and no idea of what hurdle came next. He looked down. The roofs of guards and servants houses spanned until the tower itself. He grinned and launched himself onto the first, running across them and stifling laughter. Being caught out because of his enjoyment was not his plan here. Maybe some other time he would encourage a chase. It added to the fun.

He reached the tower and jumped onto it straight from his run, passing over the heads of two of Roxy's personal guard – two women he recognised as Amelia and Anjali. Gripping the stone for a few seconds to make sure he wasn't about to slip, he then began to climb, keeping quiet despite every inch of his body wishing to alert them to his presence, if only to see them turn red with embarrassment at how easily he had managed to get this far before being chased off.

He reached Tilde's window and crawled through, now needing a moment to catch his breath. For the first time he frowned. _Really, anybody who wished to see her dead would have far too much ease,_ he grumbled to himself. Something else to discuss with her.

Tilde was sitting at her bedside table, reading over some papers, brow furrowed, hair slowly coming undone from its carefully stern style in sweet little curls. She looked up and suddenly saw him in the mirror, mouth about to open in a scream before he hurriedly placed his hand over it. “Sh, sh,” he said. “Just me.”

He withdrew his hand quickly as she stood, pushing him back. “We aren't married yet,” she said.

“What?” A moment of incomprehension that morphed into horror. “Oh, no. Fuck, that ain't why I'm here.” He took a further step back for emphasis.

Her eyebrow shot up. “You certainly sound excited at the idea.”

“I...” he stopped. “I wanted to ask if you could send someone to get my mum and sister and bring them here. Should be safe now, right?” he said. This was not a time to talk about the other thing.

“And that is why you crawl through my window?”

“Well... you're always busy. Or surrounded by people. I thought... didn't wanna ask in front of everyone.”

“In case I said no?”

Eggsy expression answered her.

“I sent people already. I am expecting them here before the marriage. Can't have you presented without family.” She smiled.

“I- you didn't tell me,” Eggsy finished dumbly, feeling a little foolish for going to these lengths now.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said. “But now that you are here and the dangers on the roads are less, it is safer for them to travel, as you say. The hunt was for you, not a woman with her daughter and their guard.”

“... Thanks. For...” it was strange, thanking his future wife.

“You are saving my kingdom,” said Tilde. “Without you I would have been forced to find a less welcome union or face war, so. Thank you.”

Eggsy thought back to the meeting he had had this morning. “Do you think there're some here who'd want a war?” he said carefully.

“Yes,” she answered. “As they so often like to argue with me. I take it they have now gone to you for such matters.”

Eggsy nodded.

“And what was your answer?”

He grinned. “That it's up to the discretion of the future queen. Pushing all the problems to you already and we ain't even married yet.”

A teasing smile played on her lips as well. “I wonder if that is an indicator of how our partnership shall be. Then you can be the one they go to when they need to know about the approved colours of textile imports. But now I do have work to do and you, I assume, have more classes?”

He grimaced. “Yeah, on my way. Bad news?” he asked at her papers.

“Hm? Oh, no. Just boring. I am afraid governing is often boring.”

Eggsy grinned. “I noticed.”

“Not always though. Once we are married we can go to my winter home. It is warmer there than here, in many ways. I can show you around the kingdom properly. We can visit friends and not simply converse with their representatives, and then it will be _their_ duty to make preparations for guests and not ours.”

Something felt a little lighter in Eggsy's heart. “Sounds good to me,” he said.

“Now,” said Tilde. “I am afraid you cannot stay. Any rumours would be... not good. But I look forward to you coming through the door in future.”

Eggsy laughed, “yeah, it's fucking easier that way. By the way, you should have the window checked. Was way too easy to get up here, don't want you to...you know. Get hurt.”

“I am grateful for your concern.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then she nodded to the window and Eggsy winked at her before disappearing down the side of the building again.

 

*******************

 

It had now been almost two weeks since Harry had left for his ridiculous mission and Eggsy couldn't help but feel lonely without him. The fact that he wanted to impress Harry by how far he'd come once he was back kept him busy most of the day, and had even stopped him purposefully winding up his various tutors – most of the time.

Today, however, with the marriage looming ever closer and no sign of either Harry or Michelle and Daisy, he was allowing himself to be childish enough that he had been told by his tailoring tutor to sort out whatever was causing his disruptiveness with a sword, preferably one that could be used to batter him around the head with. He took the advice and headed straight for the practise rings, hoping to run into Roxy or Amelia or Anjali.

No such luck. Charlie and his friends were all there, lounging about in between sparring sessions and making Eggsy seriously consider if a day indoors, learning about the economy of the textile merchant business, wasn't the better choice. Unfortunately they saw him.

Charlie smirked. “Your friends bored with you yet?” he said. He was the jumped up son of one of Tilde's elects and as such held a lot of power in this place. Eggsy suspected that before he had come along nobody had dared beat him in a fight. There were therefore many reasons for Charlie to despise him, even if he would one day have to bow to his will. For now, Eggsy was technically below Charlie in status, or so Charlie believed.

“Nah, just thought I'd find someone I don't feel bad about punching in the face,” said Eggsy, stepping forward.

Charlie's usually handsome face had a gift for poisonous glares and sneers and he directed them often at Eggsy. It had been funny the first time when Charlie had not known who he was and had challenged him with the intent of humiliating Eggsy and then having him locked up for fighting a nobleman. When Eggsy had unexpectedly won and the guards hadn't heeded Charlie's angry orders to have him whipped, the horrified growing knowledge on his face had left Eggsy wishing that there was some way to record it forever and hang it upon his wall.

During their first real sparring session he had assured Charlie that he was fully allowed to try to win, which to his credit he had done, multiple times. Rather than attempting to teach Eggsy or establish a friendship with him, Charlie had relished the victories with a vehemence against Eggsy's person that he hadn't been able to account for, until the day finally came when Eggsy had won against him. Laughing, he had held out an arm to help Charlie off the ground, only to find himself pulled down and into what had turned into a brawl.

Eventually Eggsy, more knowledgeable with dirty fighting techniques, had pinned Charlie beneath him. Charlie had tried his best to get out of his grip, snarling at him with open hatred, “that crown should've been _mine,_ not some _peasant_ pulled off the streets!” Eggsy had quickly pulled off him and taken a step back. Charlie, for a second, had seemed like he might continue, but had merely ended up staring at him.

“How's that for being a peasant,” said Eggsy, nodding at Charlie's split lip.

Charlie had spat blood on the ground in front of him and fumed off.

Eggsy walked into the ring now, to the bellows of _get him Charlie,_ and Eggsy rolled his shoulders. No swords today then, just fists. Eggsy wore his usual easy clothing and removed the shirt, as he didn't want that to get dirty. Charlie wore the customary laces. They might be finicky, but they were easy to move in. He saw Charlie hesitate. “What's the matter? See anything you like?” grinned Eggsy.

Charlie's face went through a series of angry emotions, before he charged without warning. Eggsy avoided easily and threw him over his shoulder. Charlie pulled him down with him and they both tumbled around the dirt, a flurry of fists and legs that quickly dissolved into something devoid of tactic. Eggsy rammed a knee in Charlie's side and Charlie managed to drive his elbow into Eggsy's face, sending him toppling back. He then sat up, winded from the previous blow, as Eggsy gripped his jaw with one hand, hoisting himself onto his elbow. They were both breathing heavily, aware that the fight was going to continue, but then Roxy's voice seared through the haze.

“Stop!”

They both froze, before turning to her. She didn't seem angry, just a little confused and entertained. Both let out a breath and clambered to their feet. “Almost had you,” grumbled Charlie.

“Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming,” said Eggsy, picking up his shirt, and using it to wipe his face before remembering he'd wanted it to be pristine. Damage done, he shrugged and put it on over the dirt and sweat.

“Eggsy, I wanted to show you something,” said Roxy. “Unless you're busy?”

“Nah, just letting off some steam. Charlie's always good for a tumble,” he winked and followed Roxy out before Charlie could reply.

She started laughing once they were out of earshot.

“Didn't know your sense of humour was that base,” said Eggsy, chuckling as well.

She shrugged. “First opinions can be misleading. But you do know he actually wants to kill you, don't you? That would make him, oh, tenth in line of available suitors for Tilde, but he thinks he'd have had the honour if you hadn't arrived. So does his father. You've met him I believe. Unpleasant elect on Tilde's council, fourth from her seat.”

Eggsy grimaced, recognising the face from meetings and from the strange war-council that had occurred a week ago. “Everyone here hates me for usurping the fucking throne,” he said.

“Not everyone. Some of us prefer the idea of a king who can actually think. Most of the time,” she added, earning a playful shove.

“So where're you taking me?”

“The royal archives. It was heavily suggested that learning about the royal family history would be better left to someone you wouldn't antagonise, seeing as it's not always the funnest of subjects. So now I get to be babysitter _and_ tutor.”

“Yeah, but you like hanging out with me, so it's a win for you too,” said Eggsy. “Otherwise you'd be hanging out outside Tilde's tower door all day, like Amelia and Anjali.”

“I'm going to pretend that that was a flippant remark and not based on any knowledge of how Tilde's guards-system works,” said Roxy calmly as they began to walk up steps that Eggsy hadn't noticed before. Then again, this place was vast, he doubted he'd even seen a fourth of it. And that was just the castle.

The stairs went on for awhile and Eggsy began to notice that Roxy was taking very deliberate steps the farther they got. “You okay?” he asked after a minute.

She nodded. “It's needlessly high,” she said.

“No way! I've found your one weakness,” he crowed, only laughing harder when she turned to glare empty threats at him. They finally reached a heavy door and she opened it, breathing out now that they were on more stable footing. It was a surprisingly large room, stacked with manuscripts and books from floor to ceiling and scattered across multiple ornate tables. They were even on the floor. The currently absent librarian must have been weeping at the mess, although it added a well-used air to the otherwise terrifyingly luxurious space, at odds with the otherwise spartanly decorated castle. Ornate chandeliers suspended from a ceiling with hewn depictions of great and obscure battles, gods, and worshippers, the bookshelves shaped like great trees that had sprung out of the mountain stone itself, and a large, bare window allowed Eggsy to oversee what looked like the entirety of the kingdom as far as the horizon allowed. Upon walking further into the room Eggsy noticed that they had come in through a side-entrance, rather than the very impressive-looking and pointlessly over-decorated and gilded double-doors.

“Why not just go the main way?” he said.

“I wanted to afford you some privacy. Nobody knows you're here, except for me.”

It was true, Eggsy had barely been alone in all his time here. Everywhere he went either a servant or a guard followed. Even when he was in a room alone, somebody stood watch at his door. “... Thanks,” he said.

“This library is actually quite new,” said Roxy. “A gift when this kingdom merged with many others. It used to be a small chieftain, one of six. Once they decided to form the council, one man or woman elected by the people of each territory, they came together to build this, about a hundred years ago.”

“I thought this country was ruled by kings and queens,” said Eggsy.

“It is, in part. But the council can overrule if they are unanimously against the decisions made by the current ruler, no matter the subject, and a debate can be started if needed. It's a way of providing the stability of one figurehead, with the security of a government that the people can control.”

“... neat,” said Eggsy, craning his head to see the ceiling better and then squinting up at it. “If that guy's half swan should he really be fucking that other guy?” he said, pointing at an incredibly detailed engraving.

Roxy looked up as well. “Oh, I never noticed that one before. Always distracted by the lesbian poets in the far right corner.”

 

They flicked through books for a few hours, Roxy avoiding moving to close to the window as she provided the most scandalous, lubricious, and hilarious anecdotes of the past. Almost every past ruler it seemed had had at least two or three lovers beyond their spouse and it had often caused a great deal of strife. “Would've thought they wouldn't be allowed,” said Eggsy. “Don't people get angry that they can't keep it in their pants?”

“It's expected to have a lover actually,” said Roxy. “You as well. It might be more suspicious if you didn't have one, because it can lead to rumours about your... stamina. So you should pick someone out after you're married, if only for appearances sake. Unless you already have someone in mind,” she added, smiling slightly.

Eggsy felt himself redden and tried his best to sound unaffected. “So that's... tradition?”

Roxy nodded. “Since marriage is largely political, the fewest rulers here have stuck to one partner, although mostly they don't mind the official one either. Have had a couple who couldn't stand each other. There's a queen across the mountains, Poppy, poisoned her husband the minute she'd had a child, even if it wasn't proven. Now she surrounds herself with young sterilised men, to make sure that there's no risk of a bastard being born. We travelled through her lands once, it was... strange. Here it tends to be more civilised.”

“Right. Well. Thanks,” said Eggsy. “I'll keep that in mind.” They pored over the history books in silence for a few more minutes before Eggsy began to smirk. “That mean the princess has lovers then?” he asked, looking intently at Roxy.

To her credit, she only went a little pink and her expression didn't change at all. “It's frowned upon before an official match has been made, but after, yes. Duty first and all that,” she said with affected carelessness.

“Course.”

He pushed the thought away. Even if Harry was somehow informed about this in a way that could seem halfway natural, even if any of the looks he had sent Eggsy's way and the brief second in which he had reciprocated the kiss had meant anything, Eggsy's marriage still needed to take up the forefront of his mind. Plenty of time to catch feelings and bang later.

 

*******************

 

Eggsy was woken up before sunrise by Ryan. “Wh-?” he managed, eyes heavy and sticky with sleep.

“Your man, Hart. He's back.”

Eggsy sat up quickly. “What, just now?”

Ryan nodded, but then bit his lip.

“What?”

“He's with the healers. Something happened.”


	4. The Prince's Tale Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.
> 
> Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.
> 
> Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.
> 
> \- Song Of Solomen, King James Bible (the one commissioned by the bisexual King James I)

Eggsy got out of bed quickly, pausing only to pull on a pair of breeches and an open jacket, before rushing downstairs. He heard the commotion as soon as he entered the physicians' wing of the castle, following it to its source. A group of healers' apprentices bustled about and in the centre, still and pale on a bed, lay Harry. Next to him stood a tall, bald man that Eggsy had never seen before.

He rushed forward. “He gonna be alright?”

The man looked up, a sharp, handsome face and intensely beautiful golden eyes seeming to grasp who Eggsy was in a second. His hostile face softened slightly at Eggsy's obvious worry. “We need to have patience. But there's hope.” At the last sentence his eyes seemed to lose some of their glow, fading into a lighter, less piercing colour. He turned back to Harry.

“And who are you?” said Eggsy.

“Merlin,” he said. “Former wizard at Arthur's court, here to bring princess Tilde a message: Arthur is preparing for war.”

 

*******************

 

Eggsy spent the next week training harder than he ever had before, a desperate, fierceness in the classroom, at court, and on the field. If he could become the king that Harry clearly thought he was capable of being, then Harry would _have_ to wake up. Out of the two of them, really, Eggsy had the harder job. All Harry had to do was open his damn eyes.

Merlin was presented at court in a completely dissimilar fashion from how he and Harry had been made to get on their knees, and, particularly Harry, treated with hostile suspicion. The guards were all too afraid to get close enough to chain Merlin and he stood tall and foreboding. Eggsy felt a slight thrill at sitting on the throne next to Tilde's, for the first time involved in the decision-making and not feeling like merely a figurehead.

“I have come because Galahad asked me to,” he said, using the name that Eggsy had otherwise only heard twice before, both times to evoke some kind of fearful reaction. In Merlin's case it seemed a simple title though, rather than something horrible. “There is a plot in your majesty's court. As of yet we do not know who is instigating it on this side, but it ties to Arthur's desire to kill Lee Unwin's heir and take your throne, through marriage or war.” There was a ripple amongst the assembled.

“Are you saying that one of us is a traitor?” said Adeola. “When you and Hart have been under Arthur's orders for years.”

Merlin fixed her with a stare, but then bowed his head slightly in recognition of her arguments. More diplomatic than Harry tended to be then, thought Eggsy.

“You are right,” said Merlin. “We made a choice, those long years ago, to remain. It is a decision I would make again if presented with the opportunity to change it. Through staying we learnt of his inner workings, his longterm plans, and that he had a collaborator at your table. We stayed to serve the people.”

Eggsy suddenly found himself speaking up. “You made the right decision,” he said. Heads turned to look at him. Tilde had lifted an amused eyebrow and he shrugged at her. “What, they did.”

Merlin's eyes twinkled.

“We were going to keep me at Arthur's court as a spy, but necessity had me leaving early.”

“Necessity?” said Halvik, whom Eggsy hadn't personally spoken to since the war-council. If anyone was a traitor... but he had been a loyal citizen for the years in which Tilde's parents ruled, sitting closest to the throne for a reason. Why would he change sides without cause?

“Harry was in trouble,” said Merlin simply.

Eggsy remembered Harry telling him about Merlin. It hadn't been much, merely that they had met whilst Harry was in training and Merlin was one of the best wizards of this age. It warmed him to know that, despite the way Harry sometimes seemed very alone, he had friends like these. Perhaps Merlin might be more forthcoming about who Harry was, if Eggsy asked. Then again, going behind Harry's back didn't seem like the right way to get him to open up.

“And do you know what happened to him?” said Tilde.

“You sent him on an assignment to find a man who had gone missing, yes?” said Merlin.

“He offered to go,” answered Tilde. “A highly regarded professor of our kingdom had disappeared. He told us that he would discover who had taken him.”

Eggsy sat up straighter. He hadn't known anything about Harry's assignment before now, nor that he had been looking into anything happening at court. Harry had told him very little about anything.

“Yes,” said Merlin. “Arnold. A speaker on the combination of the natural sciences and magic. Except, from the rumours I hear lately he has been... a little unhinged. Galahad discovered his whereabouts and I had almost reached them when Arnold died. Whatever killed him seems to have affected Galahad as well, but it wasn't enough to finish the job. Once he awakens he can tell us what happened.”

“How'd you know he was in danger?” asked Eggsy, for the second time drawing eyes towards him. He ignored them.

Merlin studied him for a few seconds, seeming to calculate something with his stare, before reaching a satisfied conclusion. “He and I share a bond. I created it. It has kept him out of trouble a number of times. Myself as well, for that matter. A pull tells us that the other is needed. I had already been summoned by him by letter a little over a month ago and was therefore well underway when the incident happened.”

That was around the time when Harry had first found Eggsy. When he woke up, Eggsy would finally demand answers, but for now he simply nodded and left it at that.

“You must forgive us for having Valentine with us today,” said Tilde suddenly. “We cannot be sure... in these times.”

Merlin glanced to the shadows. Into the light stepped Valentine, today it seemed without Gazelle next to him, although she couldn't be far away. Eggsy hadn't noticed him, but from the way Merlin's expression didn't change he had known. “It's understandable,” he said. “However I can assure you that I have no intention of harming you, with magic or otherwise. I come to help my friend protect this union.”

Tilde smiled, relieving some of the tension. “I won't keep you from him any longer then. Please say when he wakes up.”

Once they were adjourned, Eggsy immediately returned to Harry's side, much to the annoyance of the physicians. Merlin, surprisingly, argued that he be allowed to stay. Even his tutors left him alone for the rest of the day and he sat in a comfortable chair and watched the still, almost unreal, form before him.

In order to keep himself from nodding off, he began to talk. Perhaps also partly to pretend that Harry was awake to hear his words. “You know them old stories, princesses falling asleep and waking up with kisses. Almost too afraid to try, to be honest. That and our last one didn't exactly go great, don't want the second one to be me molesting you. Not that funny, I know, but you can't tut at me unless you wake up, so you're stuck with my bad jokes.” He was quiet for a little while then, before letting out a frustrated breath. “You can just tell me shit, you know that, yeah? I don't know... why you keep thinking you need to keep stuff from me. Don't know if that's some kind of problem you have with everyone, or just with me.”

“It's with everyone, trust me,” said Merlin from behind him.

Eggsy yelped in surprise. “Fuck, you move quietly.”

“It's a skill,” said Merlin and sat down next to him. “Any change?”

Eggsy shook his head. They were both quiet, almost awkwardly so, aware that the other meant something to Harry, but sharing none of the same experiences with him or with one another. Finally Eggsy gave in. “You said everyone. He always been like this?”

Merlin, as Eggsy was beginning to think was a habit of his, didn't answer immediately. “He was always. Reserved. Oh, not on the surface. You should have seen him when he joined the kingsmen, everybody thought he would fail on the first day. Too thin-limbed and pretty and a bit of a snob to tell the truth.” There was a fondness in his voice for a second, before he continued. “But no, he never grew close to most people he knew. To me, to your father, a few others, most of whom were killed or executed around the same time he was. After he died Harry stopped forming close acquaintances all-together and mostly broke the ones he already had, beyond a casual familiarity. Even the ones that had meant very much to him in the past. I don't know if it was because he suspected everyone of being on Arthur's side, or if he merely didn't want to devote the energy to relationships any more. It's not a decision he ever shared with me.”

It was Eggsy's turn to gather himself before he could speak. “That's a long time to stay away from people,” he said, resisting the urge to take Harry's hand.

“It is,” agreed Merlin. “I would be surprised that he has broken that rule with you, but you are your father's son.”

Eggsy squirmed slightly, torn between taking the compliment, protesting that Harry had pushed him away as well, and not wanting to think about his dad and Harry when what he wanted went far beyond friendship.

“What about you?” he asked, by way of avoiding the subject-matter. “You're not on Arthur's side.”

“I've always been loyal to the true king,” said Merlin simply. “Now, you go to your duties, make him proud. I'll keep watch.”

Eggsy reluctantly did as he was told, aware that arguing with Merlin wouldn't help and staying on his good side might be handy in future if he had any further questions.

 

Naturally Harry would wake up when Eggsy wasn't there, but whilst he was halfway through his sword-training the following day. He had been improving vastly since leaving Dean's camp, Roxy being an admirable sparring partner and impossible to beat, as usual. Today she had suggested it by way of distraction and it had worked, against all odds. The message came as he was sure that he had her cornered, causing him to turn his head, and Roxy to easily disable him. “Fuck, Rox, I had you – yeah?”

“Hart is awake,” said the servant. “He asked to see you.”

Eggsy spent a moment blustering between picking up his training gear to put it away and trying to get out of there, when Roxy took it all out of his hands and waved him off. “I've got it Eggs.”

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and ran the entire way, bursting through the door to find that Harry had managed to give himself a shave and change into a simple white shirt with the strings undone, above which he wore a long, regally red robe. It made him look impossibly taller than he already was.

Harry turned, looking as though he had merely had a pleasant nap. “Ever heard of knocking?” he said, sounding amused.

“Only when I'm casing a place to rob,” said Eggsy automatically, then remembered he was meant to be a future king. It didn't matter, because it made Harry smile.

“I've heard that you've been doing well,” he said.

“When you're strong enough to hold a sword again I'll show you how good I am,” grinned Eggsy, when there was an annoying interruption in the form of someone knocking the door. Harry pointed towards it by way of reprimand and Eggsy tried and failed to resist making a face.

Merlin entered. “Eggsy. Harry and I need a moment alone.”

Eggsy turned to Harry.

“Nonsense,” he said. “Let him stay.”

Merlin levelled Eggsy with a dangerous look that suggested that neither of them should mention to Harry what they had discussed at his sickbed. Eggsy shot him one back that pointed out that keeping things from Harry wasn't likely to inspire trust. Merlin shrugged and the strange, silent conversation was ended within a few seconds of having begun. “Fine,” said Merlin. “I've been trying to isolate the source of the spell that hit you to find the base or identity of whoever cast it. So far no luck. Whoever's doing this is very good.”

“Could it be coming from within the castle?” said Harry. Eggsy had been thinking the same. If anyone was “really good” around these parts, it was Valentine.

Merlin shook his head. “It isn't his pattern. Moreover your spies tell me that he hasn't operated beyond the city in months, it can't be him. But I'm close, within a week, maybe...”

“Before the wedding,” said Harry.

“I'll try. Now to Arnold.”

Harry took the lead. “He was the one true irregularity within court that I could discover, going missing two days before our arrival. A brilliant mind, but not a good liar. His recent sermons had been directed towards a group of anti-monarchists who reside in town, a sound set of teachings, if arguably complaining about the wrong monarch. I spoke to several of the group and of the less severe reformists and it seems that a part of his discourse related to the unfair uses of magic to stem dissent.”

“That true?” asked Eggsy.

“It has happened in the past, yes. However, many have begun the exploration of combining the sciences and magic, making it more accessible to the masses, less of a privilege – Merlin has been working on a number of projects in that area. Arnold was doing the same, although what his specific project was, I don't know. I tracked him via the organisation, he had been sent into hiding with their help. Perhaps afraid, but of whom we can only guess. His head unexpectedly eviscerated before I could question him further, whatever it was that hit him also affecting me. I managed to get away from my pursuers, but collapsed not far from the city walls. Which was where you found me.” Harry spoke in an unaffected voice, as though being almost killed didn't cause him much distress.

“If someone's working on that sort of thing and killing Arnold for it, doesn't that just mean the person wants to control that power. Don't sound very much like they're doing it for the people, but just want the throne,” said Eggsy. “You looking at Arthur?”

Merlin and Harry exchanged glances.

“Yes,” said Merlin. “But he's always gone for more direct means of power. War, duelling. He's more honourable than this.”

Eggsy snorted.

“You'd be surprised,” said Harry.

“I am surprised. Alright, so we've got Arthur on our backs over where he is, and some slimy bastard trying to take control over here. Sounds like a lot of work. I can help.”

“Eggsy-”

“Nah, I'm gonna help. Don't worry, still doing my fucking duty first and all that. But this is about me and my future wife, so I should help.”

“I was about to say it would be very helpful if you kept your eyes open,” finished Harry. “It's why I asked you to stay. I'd rather you weren't excluded from what's going on in your kingdom.” Eggsy avoided asking if he had heard the conversation between himself and Merlin only by accidentally looking at the man and finding his eyes flashing him a warning. “It was Merlin's idea I be more open with you actually,” continued Harry, seemingly unaware of the battle that was transpiring between the other two men as to whether to tell him or not.

“Yes, but not with this,” said Merlin, for all the world sounding like he didn't care one way or another, whilst it was clear that he did in fact care quite a bit about Harry's odd tendency to spontaneously overshare the wrong things. Eggsy found he didn't mind quite so much, and grinned.

“Well, thanks anyway Merlin.”

“But like you say, do focus on your studies. They're important,” said Harry.

Eggsy mock-saluted him, winked at Merlin, and turned to leave the room. Just as the door closed behind him, he heard Merlin sighing. “Your boy is a nuisance. Just like you.”

 

Eggsy's good mood lasted all day, even if he didn't see Harry again for the remainder of it. He dutifully did as his tutors asked, managing to impress even the most doubtful of them, and privately theorised which of the council of elects or foreign representatives would have most cause to betray Tilde. It was a fruitless circle of guessing and dismissing the idea that anyone would want to hurt her. Hurt him, far more likely, but he was used to threats against his person.

Such a threat presented itself the next day in the disappointing shape of Charlie and his gang, who cornered Eggsy as he came downstairs from the library.

“Hello Eggy,” said Charlie and the rest of them dutifully sniggered. It was the kind of insult that Charlie had been using since day one, but his deliberate habit of looking down his nose at him no longer bore any of the humiliation that it had done at first.

“Charlie-boy,” he said and made to pass by them.

Charlie blocked him with his arm, pressing his hand against the wall. “You need to apologise to me,” he said.

Eggsy raised an eyebrow.

“For cheating last time we fought. I've been thinking and I came to the conclusion that it's the only reason you've been able to win all this time. So what are you using? Magic tricks? I'm sure Hart's got a few up his sleeve that he's showing you when you're not bent over-”

Eggsy shoved him back. “Ever consider you're just shit Charlie? We could test that theory right now.”

He was outnumbered five to one, but he had fought those odds before, even if he had mostly lost to them. They wouldn't seriously harm the future monarch of the country, maybe, although right now he could see that they thought themselves invincible.

“You're just a fucking peasant,” snarled Charlie and took a step towards him. “One of these days you're going to get what you deserve. Just you wait.”

“Boys,” said a voice from behind them politely. They all turned.

It was Harry, wearing a white shirt that hung in a way that made it clear he had just come from training. Eggsy felt a pang of regret that he'd been reading instead of there to see it.

He seemed a little bemused to find them all standing there, face very politely blank in the way Eggsy recognised it often went right before a fight.

They seemed torn. They were still in the majority, but Harry had a reputation that stretched far and wide and they had more fear for him than for Charlie. He seemed to recognise the change in nerve and after a few seconds mumbled a “sir,” before they disappeared as suddenly as they had arrived.

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Would've had them,” he said.

“I'm sure you would. Charlie gets frustrated easily, by the way. Too used to getting what he wants to be effective in the longterm. Easy to manipulate. For future reference.”

Eggsy laughed and they fell into an easy step in no particular direction. “What were you reading?” asked Harry.

“Ah, nothing. Was looking into my family history actually. We go back a long way it seems.”

“You do.”

Turning a corner Eggsy heard an angry call coming from behind him.

“ _Shit,_ Dagonet.”

He took Harry's hand and ran in the opposite direction, hearing Dagonet calling upon a few servants and, embarrassingly for them, knights, to give chase. By now though Eggsy was good at distinguishing one long, stone hallway from another, and steered clear of any that might accidentally lead him back to their waiting grasps. He stopped running when they could no longer hear them, breathing heavily. He had completely forgotten he was holding onto Harry's hand until he let go of it to righten his tunic.

“Running away again?” asked Harry, smiling.

Eggsy laughed and hurriedly pulled Harry into a nearby corridor as the signs of pursuit drew nearer again. “Eggsy-?” began Harry, but Eggsy put a finger to his lips to keep him quiet, keeping himself pressed against him. Harry smelled like sweat and dirt from the training he had done earlier. It was intoxicating. The footsteps passed and Eggsy removed his hand, but stayed close.

“Got a written test on flora and fucking fauna,” he whispered. “They've been looking for me all day.”

“Mmm, I see why you've been avoiding them.” Eggsy felt the rumble of his chest. The white shirt Harry had chosen to wear was far flimsier up close. Practically see-through. “This feels like a familiar position,” said Harry. “You appear to inspire people to chase after you wherever you are.”

“Yeah, except in this place they wanna beat me about the head with books and scrolls, not fists. Dunno which is worse. You know how many pointless cultural traditions there are in this place? Remembering which title everyone's got, but also which kind of bow you have to do to which people, and you can't offer these guys food, but it's a fucking disgrace if you don't do it to them, and up around, uh, fuck I can't remember where, you have to bring all your concubines to court, to show your status, but here it's un-fucking-seemly to show off how many people you're having a go with. Did _you_ know that royalty was encouraged to have lovers?”

The last words were somehow far louder in this enclosed space than he had thought they would be. Moreover he couldn't think of a single intelligent thing to say next.

“Well, I wouldn't say _encouraged,”_ said Harry softly. “Invited to, certainly.”

Eggsy was about to speak when more voices and footsteps drew near, except this time they made a turn towards where they were hiding. Quick as a flash, Harry turned them around, placing his arm strategically so that Eggsy was largely hidden by his body... and leaned in to kiss him. It was a soft movement, barely lips against lips, but Eggsy dully heard the footsteps stop and turn away somewhere beyond the pounding rush of his own heartbeat. He seemed somehow stuck to the wall, unable to move either away or against Harry's lips. Harry let them linger for a few moments longer and then drew back, ever so slightly. Eggsy could feel his breath vibrate against his lips. He still couldn't move.

“Was that a mistake?” said Harry after what seemed like a long time of Eggsy not doing anything, but gaping dumbly up at him.

He shook his head. “Was told... not allowed before marriage,” he managed, mentally hitting himself for that choice of words.

“Not encouraged before marriage, that's true.”

“And you... fuck, you _knew_!” Eggsy suddenly gave him a push and he took a step back. “Before we got here, you knew we could do this, why didn't you just tell me?”

Harry grimaced. “It was a complicated situation if you remember. You didn't even know that you were getting married or about your... familial history. Did you want me to say, after telling you that I had omitted certain truths about our coming here, that it was all fine because we could still have sex?”

“Yeah and don't think I'm not still pissed about that little secret,” said Eggsy, pushing him against the opposite wall.

“I'm not quite sure if I'm being chastised here?” said Harry.

Eggsy leaned in and kissed him to shut him up, pulling his head down and holding him tightly by the hair. This time he wasn't gentle, letting himself take what he wanted. A thrill ran down his entire body as Harry groaned into his mouth. Very suddenly, he pulled back. Harry, for half a second, looked ridiculously surprised. Even better, his hair was a mess in a way that it hadn't ever been whilst on the road. Eggsy felt a strange kind of justice had been done.

“There!” said Eggsy. “Kissed you.”

“Yes,” said Harry, somehow seeming to gather himself easily, despite how red and bitten his mouth was.

“You're such a prick,” continued Eggsy.

“... I have been told that,” he said.

“And until you're less of a prick I'm not going to kiss you again.”

“Is that a threat or a challenge?” said Harry, for some reason sounding like he was teasing him even though his voice and expression hadn't changed at all.

“I'm walking away,” continued Eggsy. “You can come after me when you've fucking apologised for lying. And for fucking off suddenly. And for almost dying on me.” Before Harry could answer he'd turned and hurried away. Rounding the next corner he was found by his tutors and forced to take his test. Out of spite he passed with flying colours.

 

Harry came to eat dinner with him that night. After not seeing him the entire rest of the day some illogical, panicked part of him worried that he had chased him away or that the kiss had been a fever dream and Harry was still lying, unwaking in a bed. But he stood next to Eggsy's chair when he entered the room, as though nothing had happened and nothing was amiss, bowing his head politely at Eggsy when he entered.

“I took the liberty of inviting myself to dinner. And of making some suggestions to the cook.”

Eggsy noticed that he had changed into a loose reddish shirt, above which was a stunningly beautiful velvet coat of a dark purple that Eggsy was sure Harry knew the exact name of. For some reason, the clothes suited him. His hair had been redone after the day's earlier exertions. It irked Eggsy for some reason, to see Harry so seemingly collected, so he put on his best regal mask and smiled in turn. “Very kind of you,” he said.

Harry pulled his chair out for him and he sat. Just as he did, Harry kneeled close to his ear, murmuring softly. “I was thinking that after dinner we could go to my room and continue our conversation from before.”

Eggsy sharply turned his head towards him, but Harry was already straightening and heading to the other side of the table to seat himself.

Dinner moved at a glacial pace, as neither of them could speak openly with the servants standing around. They resorted to polite small-talk of the kind that Eggsy usually wanted to stab himself with a fork than engage in, after weeks of having it imposed on him. With Harry, it was different.

“I trust the food is to your liking,” he said.

“Yeah, cheers,” answered Eggsy, studying him for a sign that he was planning on taking Eggsy to his room and doing whatever his version of continuing their conversation was.

“And that you had a pleasant day?”

“Was alright. Had a talk about something I'd wanted to get off my chest.”

“And how did that go?”

“Not sure yet,” said Eggsy, still staring fixedly at Harry. “Depends on how the recipient responds in future.”

“I'm sure that any disagreement will be settled in a tolerable manner,” said Harry. “You should eat. I'd hate to think you're going to be exerting yourself on an empty stomach.”

Eggsy's eyes narrowed. “Not much exerting after dinner. Got some reading to do and the like.”

Now Harry finally returned his gaze. “If that's what you want to do.”

“Like I said, depends on how that disagreement sorts itself out.”

Harry's eyes were maiden-like wide with innocence, when he said, “there are many ways to apologise that I think would be to your satisfaction.”

Eggsy began to eat. It took far too long.

After dinner he made his polite excuses and said that he was going to bed, dismissing Ryan and Jamal from any further duties as he always did before bed. He walked slowly, waiting for Harry to catch up, but he didn't. By the time Eggsy had almost reached his rooms he wondered if he really was just going to bed to read tonight. If Harry wanted to actually talk to him, he wished he'd just fucking do it and not run rings around him first.

Harry was waiting for him at his door, like a spirit or a nymph that popped up whenever Eggsy wasn't expecting it to.

Eggsy rolled his eyes. “Figured you'd know all the secret passageways around here by now,” he said.

“I don't think I know all of them yet, but a fair few.” He pushed off from the wall. “Come with me.”

Eggsy followed down a short stretch of hall that he hadn't walked before, the main castle being in the opposite direction. It was only a few steps down. When Harry stopped again he could still clearly see his the door to his own room.

“Eggsy,” he began, “I would very much like to kiss you again, if you're still amenable to the idea.”

“Think that amenability came with conditions,” said Eggsy.

Harry nodded. “That's why we're here. I'm going to make it up to you.”

“So you're sorry,” said Eggsy.

“I shall endeavour to be honest with you from now on,” confirmed Harry, and opened a small door that he had to bow down to enter. Eggsy's own hair just grazed the frame.

It took Eggsy a moment to realise that this was where Harry slept. It wasn't much, cold stone and a bed that would just barely fit two. Harry neatly folded his coat and laid it over a single, bare chair that spelled the extent of excess that the room exhibited beyond Harry's own wardrobe that had been placed in piles over the floor and under the bed. “Not what I expected,” said Eggsy.

“Hm?”

“Thought you'd be given a much bigger room,” he clarified.

“I don't require much,” said Harry. And he kissed Eggsy before he could respond. It wasn't much, just lips softly brushing over his own in question as to whether he was allowed, but any clever witticism that Eggsy might have had on the tip of his tongue regarding Harry's requirements went through the window as he kissed him back. Just as he did, Harry withdrew with a smirk and walked himself back towards the bed, unlacing his shirt and placing it over his jacket.

Eggsy merely watched him lie back on the bed in invitation. He'd seen him nude before, whilst travelling here, but it had been casually so, without any context other than two men who were sharing close quarters. He had looked, of course, and appreciated what he saw, but hadn't wanted to be caught staring, so never for long. Now his eyes traced over his arms and chest freely, before he suddenly hesitated. “Harry. You woke up a day ago. Shouldn't you be resting?”

“I'm on my back,” said Harry. “And I tested my resilience earlier, I don't believe I'll break anything.”

“Yeah, okay. Yeah.” He wasn't sure where to go from here. His imagination hadn't helpfully provided a chart on how to react if this were to ever happen in real life. Neither had it included his ears feeling like they were burning, or the jittery way he didn't know what to do with his hands, because of some ridiculous fear that touching Harry might end up with one of them spontaneously combusting into nothing. He had been much better at this in his head.

Harry sat up and took his hand. Amazingly, nothing awful happened. “I think,” he said, “that a good place to start would be you telling me what you want.” He turned his hand over and kissed his palm, and now Eggsy was _sure_ that he was on fire. Harry placed his other hand around Eggsy's waist, teasing his fingers beneath his shirt with circle-motions.

He opened his mouth, feeling how parched it was suddenly. “Can I...” he slotted himself between Harry's spread legs and leaned down to kiss him. It was made much easier by Harry pulling him closer by the hand and angling his head up. So far, so good, thought Eggsy. And then his unhelpful mind thankfully shut off in favour of a continual babbling at how good the sensation of Harry's lips were, how _sinfully_ gifted his tongue was. Beyond the pretty words and razor sharp sarcasm was this, a softness that Eggsy could never have imagined and was infinitely better than any of his fantasies.

He pushed at Harry's chest and he dutifully lay back, Eggsy moving on top and pressing himself against him, as though trying to use the motion and the kiss to become one entity. It wasn't enough; he was still fully clothed, Harry was still in his trousers, and worse, he continued to kiss in a relaxed pace, even though Eggsy chased after more, as though the four fingers on his skin and his mouth could possibly be enough for Eggsy. It was hard, however, to complain when that required he stop kissing him.

In the end, again, Harry made the decision for him, gently pulling back and resting his head on the pillow, looking like one of the debauched illustrations from the library ceiling. “I think,” he said, disappointingly not even out of breath, “that you should be wearing less. Your clothes are getting very frustrating.” He didn't sound frustrated at all, the prick.

Without preamble Eggsy stood and pulled his shirt off, tossing it in a corner. His trousers followed.

“That's a start,” smiled Harry, infuriatingly, arms behind his head, like he was enjoying a pleasant view. Well. If he was going to act as though he had all the time in the world, Eggsy was going to give it to him.

“I want you to keep your arms there,” he said. “And don't move.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up.

“You said you wanted me to tell you what I want, right?”

“I did.”

“Good. Stay.” He almost expected that to be a step too far, but Harry's eyes glinted and he didn't move. Eggsy breathed once, twice, three times. And waited, just mapping Harry's body with his eyes, purposefully avoiding his face and going straight to where his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily, betraying his feelings for just a moment before regaining composure, to the gorgeous hollow of his throat, down to the hairs on his chest that for a moment he had to ball his hands into fists not to lean down to touch. Harry's breathing was shallow and even, but Eggsy knew by now that he was exceptionally good at self-control. He rested his eyes there for a short while, his mind beginning to form coherent ideas about everything he wanted to do, as though as long as he wasn't touching him it was still a fantasy to believe that he could. Except now he could tell Harry all about them.

“You know I kept imagining what it'd be like, how I'd get my hands all over you and you'd just fuck my fucking brains out. Or the other way around,” he mused, earning him a small jolt in the way Harry's chest rose. “But then we got to it and I didn't know where to fucking begin, and I realised, couldn't just look at you the entire time we were together and it was torture. The amount of times I just wanted to stare at you when you were washing, and after we got to court when you'd dress like you fucking _were_ the king, but didn't want to feed into that narcissism of yours. You know how you look, just fucking...” he breathed. “And didn't want to be too obvious about it, not when I'm meant to be getting married. But now I can just take my time, can't I? And you're not gonna fucking move from the spot, because you love being looked at.”

Another flutter and Harry spoke, but Eggsy didn't look up. “Tell me,” he said. There was a faint hoarseness to his voice that Eggsy had never heard before.

Eggsy's eyes travelled further along the scarred planes of his muscled torso, to his barely moving stomach and the enticing trail of hair that went down to where a string tied along the top of his breeches, like a present waiting to be opened. And further down his impossibly long, still spread legs. “You look like you've been paid to lie here, like you're my fucking muse or something. Should paint you like this. Or like one of them high class whores, concubines, that serve the nobility and I can just do whatever the fuck I want with you.”

Instead of acting on that instinct he simple watched for a few minutes, not moving closer, not allowing Harry to meet his eyes, waiting patiently. There was a deep scar next to his bellybutton that he had seen before, but never asked what was. Another beneath his ribs from where he assumed Harry had been stabbed – it must have been a close call. His legs were unfortunately still covered, but once he allowed himself to touch that would be the first thing that he would change. He brazenly ran his eyes over Harry's crotch, but didn't linger. There was so much more to see. The darker hairs on Harry's arms reacted to Eggsy's gaze and to the growing cold of the room, so he slowly tracked them up and up to his sculpted shoulders and again to the thatch on his chest. His nipples were hard and for a short while Eggsy's mind couldn't focus anymore as he stared at them and without thinking wet his lips. But he didn't do anything more, an adamant refusal to be the first to break breaking through the lustful fog and pulling him back from the edge.

It happened, at last, when Eggsy heard a faint catch in Harry's breath, as though he had been about to speak again, but had stopped himself. His slip exposed itself along his entire body though, a ripple of unrestrained emotion. His chest rising higher, his stomach clenching in an effort to not let Eggsy see, and the way his legs shuddered before falling almost imperceptibly further apart in invitation.

Eggsy finally turned his gaze towards Harry's face. Harry no longer looked so calm.

“Thought I told you not to move,” he said, gratified at how steady his voice was, even though the urge to touch either himself or Harry had grown to an almost deafening roar in his ears.

Harry huffed out a surprised laughter. “You're not quite so virtuous as you would have had me believe. Do you enjoy punishing me or do you simply prefer to watch?”

“And I think I'm gonna ask you to stop talking as well,” Eggsy continued, as though Harry hadn't spoken.

His mouth shut.

“Didn't know you took orders so well,” said Eggsy. “From the way you mouth off in court, would've thought you were gonna be demanding in bed as well.”

Harry's jaw clenched, but otherwise there was no further movement.

Eggsy grinned. “Better,” he said and at last knelt down between his legs to untie the thread and unwrapping the entirety of him, allowing him to raise his hips slightly off the bed to make it possible to pull them down. He was careful not to touch skin, or to see to what extent he had so far managed to torment Harry into hardening, although he had seen the bulge through the fabric before resolutely turning his focus on the task at hand. Clearly though, his endeavours were having some success.

He experienced another moment of uncertainty, but didn't let Harry see, didn't want him to take over again now that he had given Eggsy the reins completely. But here was vast unexplored territory and he had no idea what to do. He hadn't even asked Harry what he _liked,_ never mind knowing where to begin with his own wants – every one of them cluttered to the forefront of his mind instead of forming an orderly queue and it felt as though he only had this moment to fulfil all of his desires in. He let himself breathe and started simply.

He kissed the inside of Harry's knee. The action caused the hairs on Harry's leg to stand on end, and goosebumps erupted like he'd been scalded. Eggsy's breath hitched. He kissed higher, ghosting along the inside of his leg and up to his thigh, goosebumps following after like he was commanding them to chase him. He moved no further, focusing all his attention on a particularly sensitive bit of skin that made Harry shake with the effort not to move or speak. He stopped, paused, and then turned to his other thigh. This awarded him with an exhale that sounded like someone had punched Harry in the gut, so he stayed there for awhile.

When Eggsy finally, finally looked, he saw that Harry was far closer to coming than he was and was amazed at his ability to not do or say anything to indicate how hard it must be to not be able to finish himself off. Without warning Eggsy leaned in and tasted with the barest touch of lips and tongue and Harry bit off a deliciously high-strung sob as his hips lifted from the bed, chasing the touch.

Eggsy pulled back and again looked at Harry. He had bitten his lips puffy and raw, his cheeks and chest blotchy with colour. Sweat had made his skin shiny and from the way his arms strained, he was pulling at his own hair where his hands lay behind his head, in an attempt to resist crying or coming or both, going by the tears in the corners of his eyes.

Suddenly Eggsy couldn't bear it any more and he rose to straddle him again, surprised to find himself as hungry and sweat-drenched as Harry was when he at last kissed him – he hadn't noticed how hard it had been to constrain himself to the of barest touches until he was finally allowed everything at once.

This time, Harry didn't indulge, but took just as much, with bites and tongue and desperate sounds. By unspoken agreement that it would be impossible for him not to, Harry could now wrap his arms around Eggsy, dragging his hands and nails down to try and touch every bit of him. Their hips worked in unison to bring them both to the edge, but it wasn't until Harry wrapped his hand around both of their lengths and bit into Eggsy's neck that he came with a gasp and Harry's name, Harry following him over the edge with another cry that he muffled against Eggsy's shoulder, whilst Eggsy pressed his mouth to his matted, unruly hair.

They lay in a dozy pile for a few minutes after.

“Fuck,” said Harry finally.

Eggsy grinned, lazily.

“I have to admit, I have never been brought so close by so tame a set of actions,” said Harry, as though he were discussing the performance of a skilled athlete or musician. Eggsy prodded him. “What?”

“Next time I'm gonna shove my dick in your mouth if you plan on using it to grade me.”

“I...” he seemed to reconsider his answer, “wasn't planning on giving you grades. But if you insist.” His grin was wicked and shameless. “Marks out of ten?”

Another jab. “Don't you dare,” but he was laughing now.

“Well, you make it sound like it's the only reason you would shove your dick in my mouth, so if I have to do this in order to make it happen, I will. Let me see, dedication, eight of ten.”

“What!” Eggsy pushed himself up on his elbow. “I was so dedicated, do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my hands off you?”

“Mmm, I noticed it a couple of times. You need to practise your poker-face,” said Harry.

“I'll poke you,” grumbled Eggsy and settled down again.

“Execution, ten out of ten,” said Harry and kissed him, unhurried. Eggsy allowed himself to not feel the desperation of earlier, even though a heat in his gut told him that it wouldn't take much time and effort to get him ready for another round.

Except then Harry lay back, inviting Eggsy to sprawl himself across him, idly running his fingers through the lighter hair on his chest, marvelling that he could do so.

“Eggsy,” said Harry finally. “I have to tell you something.” It sounded as though every word were being forced from his mouth.

Eggsy looked up.

“It's nothing bad,” continued Harry quickly, possibly seeing something in his expression. “I merely... wished to find the right time.” He frowned. “Perhaps this isn't it. Merlin always said I'm not good with timing, or declarations.”

“He's right,” said Eggsy.

A flicker of uncertainty passed over Harry's face, the first that Eggsy had ever seen. He kissed it away. “Go on,” he said.

“When I told you that I barely knew your father, I wasn't entirely... well, you know I kept up the pretence that he was a kingsman and I wasn't, but actually I was good friends with him, both during my training, and after, when I was a kingsman under his rule.”

“You knew my dad?” asked Eggsy, favouring the question over another comment on how Harry really needed to learn how to pick the right moments to have these kinds of conversations, and both of them post-coitally naked wasn't it. But Harry was speaking to him and he knew that it didn't come easy to a man who was so used to not opening up about anything.

“I fought with him,” said Harry. “I was with him when...”

“You saw it?”

Harry nodded.

“Why didn't you tell me?” It was a question that he felt he had asked too often by now, but maybe this would finally be the last time.

Harry didn't look at him, instead focusing on his own thumb making small circles on Eggsy's palm.

“I did not want you to judge our relationship, my loyalty to you, based on my past. It has nothing to do with that.”

Eggsy lay still for a long time, gathering courage. “... Why'd you never come looking for me before? I mean, I know what Merlin said. You were staying close to Arthur for a reason. But... if he'd never exiled you. Would you ever've come looking?”

Harry spoke softly. “I always intended to find you again.”

“Too late though,” said Eggsy. “I'm not royalty, not really. They're all right, Charlie and them. I'm just a commoner.”

Harry turned to look him fully in the eyes. “Nonsense,” he said. “Nobility is not simply an accident of birth. Neither can you learn it by something as petty as manners, or accents. It's about being at ease in ones own skin. There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. _True_ nobility is being superior to your former self.”

Eggsy's face was harsh with trust. Harry could think of nothing else to do but kiss it. His forehead, then next to his eye, down his cheek. He pressed one slowly just beside his mouth, ghosting the edge of his lips. Then he continued down. This time Eggsy let him take the lead. Luckily it seemed that they both had the exact same idea as to the best uses of Harry's mouth.


	5. The Prince's Tale Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, let him come again, he must not die,  
> Let him return with the returning spring,  
> And waken all the songs he used to sing.  
> but will he come again? I know not, I.  
> I fear the dark sea breaks above his head,  
> Caught in the whirlpool, dead beneath the waves,  
> Sorrow for me, if that ill god of wine  
> Hath drowned him deep where young things find their graves.  
> But if he lives yet, surely he will come,
> 
> \- Alcuin "Lament For A Cuckoo"

“Merlin!” he yelled, running down the hallway when he saw the conspicuous robes that he wore swishing around a corner. Merlin waited and he almost collided with him, an invisible barrier seeming to stop him just in time.

“Eggsy?” he asked, calmly.

“I want you to make me and Harry a bond. Like what you have.”

Merlin looked at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Course. Sir,” he added.

Merlin continued to look at him. “No,” he said finally and turned away.

Eggsy grabbed him by the arm. Merlin's eyes slowly tracked down to where Eggsy held him. Eggsy quickly let go, but purposefully set his face in a defiant expression.

“No,” said Merlin again.

“Why the fuck not? Do you think I'm not good enough for him, for any of this?” The expression entrenched itself deeper into his face.

“You don't talk to me like that,” said Merlin. “You have a request, you come here and whisper it in my ear.”

Eggsy didn't move for half a second, then stepped forward.

Merlin leaned in. “You need to take that chip off your shoulder,” he said, and suddenly Eggsy felt himself blasted halfway down the corridor. He landed in an undignified heap, struggling up on his elbows to find Merlin looking at him with an amused twinkle in his ever-changing eyes. “You may be the son of a king, but that doesn't mean that you're beyond reproach.”

There was another silence.

“Fine,” Merlin finally said. “I'll do it for you.”

Eggsy scrambled to his feet. “Yeah? Now?”

Merlin began to walk and Eggsy hurried after him. As they walked Merlin spoke in an authoritative voice that allowed for no argument. “You will do exactly as I say, without complaint. This isn't done lightly. The bond is only for people willing to undergo a great sacrifice.”

“Why?” asked Eggsy, as they turned into Merlin's quarters.

He paused. “Because it hurts... feeling another person's death. I haven't experienced it myself, but I've been told that it is one of the most painful sensations known to man. The bond is forcefully ripped from you, and I have been informed it is like your heart being pulled still-beating from your chest. Apparently the emptiness that follows, it's... something that will never leave you. So. Now would be the time to make a final decision.”

Eggsy set his jaw. “Yeah. Please.”

Merlin observed him for a little while longer. “I can see why he likes you,” he said. “Don't tell him I did this or he won't be happy.”

“I just want to make sure he's safe.”

Merlin actually let out a huff of air. “Yes, he does get himself into dire situations a lot. Always has done.”

Eggsy almost asked, but thought better of it. Merlin and Harry's past was their own, unless they wanted to share it with him.

They reached Merlin's room, a large, organised affair – books, robes, and numerous items that Eggsy couldn't begin to guess the meaning of, were neatly placed in shelves that in turn looked like they were dusted every day. The only bit of clutter was on Merlin's work-desk, but he was stopped with a hand on his shoulder from getting too close. “Wait,” said Merlin. “Don't touch anything.”

Eggsy kept himself firmly in the middle of the room, only craning his neck to see what Merlin was bustling about with. “Harry said you were working on combining the sciences and magic. Didn't know there was anything there to be combined.”

“Do you take an interest in either?” said Merlin.

Eggsy shrugged. “I mean, I don't know anything.”

Merlin turned to look at him, for a moment seeming to almost smile. “People your age usually think they know everything,” he said, then continued with his work. “Take the brand, for example. It is magical in method, but very practical in how it is applied. The way it recognises another person is done with blood.”

Eggsy frowned. “Just sounds like dark magic now, honestly.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and walked to his table, now doing something strange over there with something that bubbled inside a small cauldron. Eggsy almost took a step closer, but stopped himself in time. He was sure he was getting a crick in his neck from all the craning by now. “People tend to say that about blood, but I believe that in the study of it we will learn a great deal more about people. How to heal them, how to recognise them. There is something in blood that the brand can sense that is unique to every person and I believe that this can be applied to all things, both magical and natural. Although the two are not necessarily distinct from one another, the first is merely not researched properly. Where the magic comes in with the brand specifically, is your dedication to making it work. It doesn't take with everyone.”

He approached Eggsy now, carrying a vial and an inordinately sized knife, and Eggsy blanched at the sight of it. “It's the one I always use,” said Merlin by way of explanation. “Hold out your arm.”

Still suspicious, Eggsy did as he was told and Merlin quickly grabbed it and made a small incision on the inside, just under his wrist. Eggsy almost jerked his arm back, but Merlin held it fast and poured whatever was in the vial over it.

Eggsy gasped as it burned, but managed to cry out as steam rose from where it had sealed the wound into an ugly little brand. “Hm,” said Merlin, in a not-at-all comforting tone and finally let go. The more the seconds wore on, the more it hurt. “Don't touch it.”

Eggsy had been just about to scratch at it, but curled his hands into purposeful fists, lowering them to his sides. “Fuck Merlin, you didn't say nothing about that. And you carry Harry's blood around?”

“For my work he supplied me with a little, yes. And I thought it would be better not to alarm you,” said Merlin, now back at his table to do something else. “I've noticed people always get more worried when they're warned. Don't move yet.”

“You and Harry are both as mad as each other,” mumbled Eggsy, shutting his eyes for a second as the searing got worse.

When he opened them again it was to see Merlin definitely smiling.

“Alright, so tell me more about what you're working on,” said Eggsy.

“Well, I've been trying to discover what creates an affinity for magic, as I don't believe it can be as simple as happenstance, or the works of demons, as some believe. In conjunction I'm trying to see if it's possible to give somebody the ability to work magic even if hitherto unable to do so, and vice versa, take it away, as well as amplification and reduction of scale.” From his calm, but quick manner of talking, Eggsy realised that Merlin didn't often get asked about his passions and was enjoying himself.

“Sounds interesting,” he said. “Don't get how it works, but I get what you're talking about.”

“Good,” said Merlin, not looking up at him.

“Why do some people call him Galahad?” asked Eggsy, suddenly needing to know.

“Every kingsman in Arthur's court has a name given to them by their predecessor. In that way a knight remains immortal. Harry is one of the most famous Galahads to have lived though. Or infamous, depending on who you ask.”

“Oh. So when Harry dies...”

“There will be a new Galahad. And Harry's legacy will be passed on to the next worthy of bearing the title.”

“Right. Well. There's more than that for him to work for now.”

Merlin stayed fixated on his work, so Eggsy couldn't see his face. “You can go now.”

“Huh?”

“It's finished. You will feel some discomfort for the rest of the day, but don't touch it.”

“Right. Great. Thanks. You're the best, Merlin.” He almost considered if kissing him on the top of his head would be appropriate, but decided that life was a preferable option at this point, so he simply hurried out.

 

“You did what?” asked Roxy. Eggsy showed her the scab. It had been hurting and itching, just as Merlin had promised and he had dutifully and fearfully not touched it at all, but had spent some time deliberating how to tell Harry.

Eventually he had gone to Roxy for help, pulling her into their by now secret meeting place of the library, and he had told her whilst they had both gazed up at lewd depictions of various animalistic orgies and sacrifices, often happening at the same time.

“It's just so I can keep him safe. But now I'm thinking he might not be happy I went and did that without telling him first, seeing as his blood was involved, but I didn't know that was going to happen. I'm a bit fucked Roxy.”

“Mmm,” she agreed. “But we've all done stupid things.”

“You've never done anything stupid in your life,” said Eggsy.

Roxy scoffed. “You'd be surprised.”

“Okay, so what's the stupidest thing you've ever done. Bet this was worse.”

Roxy stood. “I need to let off some steam, come on.”

Eggsy thought it wise to leave it at that, for a grand total of the time it took to get to the sparring rings and do a brief warm-up.

“You didn't answer me before,” he said.

Roxy threw a practise sword to him, which he caught with ease, twirling it between his fingers for fun, before getting into position.

“Answer what?” she said, and attacked. It was a short fight, which she easily won, Eggsy ending up with his sword flying from his hands. She was far more aggressive than he was today, but he merely laughed and went to retrieve it. Eggsy wasn't really all that interested in attempting to best her today.

After three bouts had been won, she made a frustrated sound and threw her sword to the ground. “You're not even trying!” she said.

“Am too,” said Eggsy from the ground. “Are you going to tell me?”

Just then a group men and women entered the courtyard, all of them guards-in-training. Eggsy saw Jamal and Ryan amongst them, as well as Gazelle. Another bet to see if she could be beaten, probably. They happened often with newer recruits, the elder gathering to watch them fall and occasionally joining in to give her some competition.

Roxy picked up her sword again and went to put it back. “I'm done for the day. I have duties to attend to.”

Eggsy followed her. “Rox, I'm sorry. I won't ask again.” He hesitated for a little while as they both removed the leather practise-plates from their chests. “You know, I've made plenty of mistakes in the past that fucked me up that I don't talk about. So. You don't have to,” he said.

“We've all had pain in the past that we don't want to dwell on,” said Roxy. Across the courtyard, Gazelle smilingly launched herself at her newest batch of victims. Roxy sighed. “Sometimes though, it sticks around to remind you of where you went wrong.”

Eggsy made a face. “I know that feeling.”

“You should tell Harry, sooner rather than later. The longer you wait, the harder it gets to tell the truth.”

“... Thanks, Rox.”

For a moment he was distracted by the dazzling display of Gazelle fighting.

When he turned to say something to her, Roxy was gone.

 

*******************

 

With everything seemingly going so well, Eggsy for a short time forgot how his life had a tendency towards bad luck, and that holding on to something good would soon see it all crumble beneath his fingers. It began with a messenger. Eggsy had sent him out to allay what he deemed was his own paranoia about his mother and sister, expecting nothing but assurances that they were fine and nearing the city when he returned. When he did, however, it was to say he had not seen them, despite searching for days within the area they should have been in by now.

The wedding celebrations would be commencing within the next four days and as such it would be impossible to seek out Tilde. She was as surrounded by people as he currently was, having to try on clothes, memorise speeches of gratitude, go through the rehearsed steps of what he would do and say on the day, because nothing was being left to chance, nor was anything left to him. It would have been stifling under normal circumstances, but with the knowledge that something might have happened to his family it grew unbearable.

At last he cornered Harry, managing to shake off his entourage and pulling him into an empty closet. Since receiving the brand from Merlin, Eggsy had taken at first to covering his arm with cloth, claiming that he had burned himself, and later to wearing jewellery over the area. So far, he hadn't found the right time to tell him about it. The brand itself was slowly dimming into a barely noticeable scar, but until it did Eggsy wasn't taking any chances.

Harry smiled slightly. “Running away again?” he asked, hand going to cup Eggsy's cheek softly.

Eggsy sighed. “I need your help,” he said.

His tone sounded serious enough that Harry dropped his hand.

“I think something's happened to my mum and Daisy. I can't find out what, but... can you find some way to, I don't know, do whatever it is you do? Figure out where they are?”

Harry's face was impassive, but Eggsy had caught a flash of something as he'd spoken. He didn't know what and right now he didn't care as long as Harry agreed.

“I'll protect them,” said Harry, earnestly. “But you have to focus on what you need to do. Preparing for the wedding, not jumping into every closet in the castle.”

Eggsy huffed out an insulted breath. “Not even if my partner's in here with me for a quick snog?” he asked.

“Not even,” murmured Harry, and kissed him. It was far too short for Eggsy's liking, but he understood, so after they had both extricated themselves from each other and the cupboard and he returned to his worried courtiers, assuring them that his six minute disappearance had been down to needing to relieve himself, in private.

The nervous fluttering had died down slightly in the wake of Harry's promise, but awoke again when he saw him throughout the day, clearly not doing what Eggsy had expected, which was to ride out and find his family. This time, however, there was no possibility of pulling him away and Eggsy spent a fitful night wondering if this delay had caused irreparable damage to helping Michelle and Daisy.

The next day followed much the same pattern. He saw Harry several times, but only once tried to pull him aside, whispering urgently in his ear. Harry gripped his arm, a sever expression on his face. “I am not going out on a wild chase right before your marriage,” he said.

“Did you send someone?” asked Eggsy.

“No,” said Harry, as though the notion was ridiculous.

Eggsy let go of him as though stung. “What are you doing to help them?” he asked.

“There's nothing to do right now,” said Harry. “Just trust me.” And he brushed past him before he could answer.

He was able to finally sit down next to him over his small dinner, albeit surrounded by servants. “Galahad,” he said, wanting to phrase his question so that this conversation could remain private between them, despite the ever-listening ears of the castle.

“Your highness, “ answered Harry, respectfully.

“You don't have duties to attend to today?” he asked.

Harry levelled him with a long look. “I'm doing what I must,” he said. Trust Harry to speak in riddles that nobody but himself could understand.

“Yeah, but... what I asked.” Eggsy was not nearly as good at this game. There was something going on though, that much he knew. The look from the closet that he had ignored, the many half-truths that Harry had spoken in the past. Somehow they were all folded into Harry's words.

Again, Harry allowed a few seconds to pass. “You remember your responsibilities and I will tend to mine.”

“Harr-” Eggsy stopped himself. “What's going on?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” said Harry and promptly stood. There was a gasp from one of the servants. Standing before the king was incredibly rude. Eggsy resolutely stayed seated.

“Alright,” he said, forcing calm. “Then you don't have to concern yourself with me.”

For the third time the silence seemed to stretch. Eggsy didn't look at Harry's face, as he abruptly bowed and left the room, but just focused on his food and on not following Harry to demand an explanation. He wouldn't get one, he knew. He had no idea why everything had broken to pieces so quickly, but maybe that was his own fault for loving a man who dealt in secrets in lies. It would never be possible to trust someone like that.

He went through his evening rota per automatic, dinner alone, clothes laid out for the next day, final questions about preparations in the morning, before finally being left alone. His bedding lay on the floor. Usually he would have smiled that he was being allowed his way, but tonight he changed into the simple clothes that Harry had gifted him and stole out through the window, his sword and a bag with scarce belongings and food with him.

As with Tilde, it was alarmingly easy for him to sneak through the castle grounds and over the wall, taking only an hour of sneaking about before beginning to climb over the barricade – although getting out of the castle was probably easier than getting in. When he landed on the soil next to the first of the houses, a strange, heavy weight lifted from him and he realised that this was the first time since his arrival that he had been free from everything; his responsibilities, his future, all bound by the walls that had surrounded him, now suddenly seemed vague and belonging to someone else. He could find his mother and sister and take them far away from this place and its riddles and poisonous elects. There was a twinge of guilt, which he resolutely ignored. He had been poked and prodded and treated like an exotic animal at a showing and there was no true indicator that that would ever change once he was married. The thin thread keeping him to his purpose had snapped so suddenly that Eggsy felt as though a noose had been cut from his neck.

He began to walk, keeping to the shadows and off the main streets where celebrations were already in full swing. Nobody would recognise him, but still, he preferred the anonymity.

It was after ten minutes that he began to take notice of a steady tread that followed his own. He purposefully took a turning into a blind alley. The steps followed and grew closer.

Eggsy turned, drawing his sword, just as his assailant attacked. It was a man, dressed darkly so as not to be seen, and his onslaught was brutal.

Eggsy had gained a lot of bulk since first meeting Harry and managed to parry his thrusts without being driven back. In between he countered with more technically advanced attacks of his own, some intellectual part of him observing at how far he had progressed. He pressed further. It was a mistake, his over-confidence giving the man an opening and grazing his arm. In an effort not to drop his sword in surprise he further lost focus, and the man pressed his advantage. Eggsy now found himself dangerously close to a wall. The man swung at his head, intending to push him further back, but instead Eggsy ducked and headbutted him, giving him the opportunity to disarm him and further kick him in the stomach as he doubled over, winded. Eggsy punched him in the face and he went down, Eggsy hovering over him, sword pointing to his chest.

“You don't look like a thug,” he said, “so I'm guessing you know who I am.”

The man didn't seem to have been paid enough to keep silent, so Eggsy leaned in and punched him again, breaking his nose.

“Who sent you and how'd you find me?” he asked.

“I, I... wasn't even sent for you directly, but when I saw you sneaking out-”

Eggsy grabbed him viciously by his cloak, pulling him up. “Where the fuck's my mum?” he all but growled.

“We don't have her yet,” gibbered the man. “We were going to use her to bargain with, but she disappeared-”

“Who's we?”

“Arthur,” gasped the man. “After Galahad failed-”

Eggsy let go of him and he fell back with a pained grunt. “Fuck,” said Eggsy, quietly.

In the moment when he was distracted the man stood and picked up his sword again, swinging it towards his neck. In a daze, Eggsy's body reacted without thought and he ducked beneath it, rushing towards him. The man gasped. Eggsy's sword stuck through him, the blood glistening around it. Eggsy let go and stumbled back as the man fell, sword still in him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” said Eggsy, clinging to the dirty wall.

“Running away again?”

Eggsy turned to look. It was Harry, standing at the mouth of the alley. Eggsy rushed to the dead man, clumsily pulling out his sword with sweat and dirt-encrusted hands.

“Eggsy,” said Harry, starting forwards.

“Stay the fuck back!” said Eggsy, pointing it at him.

Harry stopped. “What did he say?” His voice was urgent.

“He said you were meant to kill me,” said Eggsy, oddly calm on the outside all of a sudden.

“He lied. Eggsy, we need to get you back to the castle, we don't know if he's alerted anyone else to your presence here. I can best a few men, but not a dozen on my own.” He took another step. “Eggsy...” he said again.

Eggsy dropped his sword, the fight gone. “Couldn't ever win against you anyway,” he said, a grim quirk of the lips almost turning into a pained smile.

Harry came towards him carefully. Eggsy kept his eyes fixed on his sword. Maybe if he attacked before he could draw-

Harry took off his cloak and wrapped it around Eggsy, one arm around his shoulder. “Come on,” he said. Eggsy followed.

They reached the castle side-door that they had entered via the first time under lock and key, Harry banging at it until a sleepy soldier answered.

“What the fuck are you waking me for?” he grumbled.

“I'm bringing back the future king that you let walk out from right underneath your watchful gaze,” said Harry with the pleasantly innocent features on his face that he utilised before violence.

The guard looked at Eggsy, his eyes widening in surprise. “Your highness-” he st uttered, unlocking the gates and bowing deeply as he let them through.

“Gratitude,” said Harry. “And if you never speak of this, I need never mention your incompetence.”

He led Eggsy down unfamiliar corridors to where their rooms lay, but led him to his own, small, secreted, bare, and sat him on the bed.

Then he took his sword out of his hands and wiped it with a discarded cloth, getting a basin for Eggsy to clean his face in. It was all done in silence.

It wasn't until afterwards that he spoke. “I expected better of you,” he said.

Eggsy let out a derisive laugh. “Yeah? I expected you to be on my side,” he said, “so clearly we're both fuck ups.”

“I...” a spark of truth in Harry's expression, quickly replaced by another, frustratingly blank wall of the kind that Eggsy was too used to and wanted to shake him for.

“What?” said Eggsy, instead. “I get it, by the way. Your little plan that you couldn't tell me about. Use me as bait to lure out the would-be assassin. Well it fucking worked, you were just too late to help.”

“You shouldn't have killed that man,” he said, frowning heavily. “You should have stayed in the castle and let me deal with this, like I asked you to. I'd have been able to control the situation then.”

“You?” snarled Eggsy. “You weren't gonna go and help my mum, were you? Because you're looking for your fucking spy, you wanted to let her die in order to find him.”

“I wouldn't have done that. I've been watching over her since she arrived in the city with Daisy.” He seemed surprised at Eggsy's accusation.

“She...?” Eggsy stopped. “How long has she been here?” he asked.

“A few days,” said Harry. “She has been told that she'll see you at the ceremony, but that right now you're busy. We let it slip within the castle walls where she was, so that whoever was attempting to betray the princess, and you, would send out a man or an assassin of some kind that we could interrogate. He lies dead outside the castle walls now. I doubt we'll have another chance. ” He never raised his voice. He didn't have to. The disappointment laced every syllable.

Eggsy flushed, refusing to be ashamed, despite Harry's censor feeling like an iron fist in his chest. “You know what your problem is, Harry? You don't fucking trust anyone. You could've just _told_ me!” Unless this was all some fucking game to you, putting my mum and sister in danger for your agenda? … And me.”

“You have _one_ duty,” said Harry, voice dropping dangerously. “You prepare to be king. Anything else that's going on doesn't concern you. And you put the people first, no matter the personal cost.”

“What like you did with my dad? And then you went on to help the man who killed him?” Eggsy almost yelled, standing. Harry's cloak fell from his shoulders.

“I _did_ this for your father, all of this. Helping you, do you think it was easy for me to make that decision? My entire life I've been trained to follow the orders of the king and now I openly defy him! Why do you think I arrived at your camp two months ago? Did you believe that it was coincidence?”

They were skirting a dangerous truth. Eggsy had felt it drawing close several times before, but adamantly ignored it in favour of trusting Harry, but here it was, clearer than ever, refusing to be cast aside yet again. “You _were_ sent to kill me,” he said, flatly. “Guessing Tilde as well, maybe, if she couldn't be convinced to, what? Marry Arthur or some pawn he'd placed at court for her, like Charlie? So what changed your mind? Guessing it wasn't my thrilling company or fucking conversation, so, gonna go for you wanting to fuck me.”

“No-” began Harry, but Eggsy was through bowing to his silvery tongue and pretty words.

“Right, yeah, my abilities, I heard you say all that before you let some guy almost kill me and my family. _After_ you decided not to do it yourself and trained me, so thanks for that. Would've been an easy target out there on the road. How many times did you change your mind? Kill me or fuck me, I know that's a hard decision. Been told that to my face before.” He was breathing heavily, his anger keeping the voice telling him how stupid he'd been for ever thinking any of this had been real at bay. “Or, yeah, because of my dad. Mending your fucking mistakes a bit too late, don't you think?”

“Eggsy, I...”

The sentence hung in the air when Merlin suddenly appeared like a spectre of bad timing. “Galahad. We've discovered where they've been hiding themselves, but you need to go, now.”

Harry turned briefly to Eggsy. “I'll take care of this mess,” he said brusquely, as though he was somehow at fault as much as Harry, and hurried away. Merlin looked at Eggsy for a moment, about to say something, but then followed him. Eggsy somehow couldn't move for a long time after he was gone, but eventually walked the route back to his own room alone, after having neatly folded Harry's cloak and put it on his bed.

 

It was closing on daylight by the time he got back, and he barely had an hour's restless sleep, before he continued with his duties as though nothing was the matter. He purposefully didn't request for his mother and sister to be brought to the castle and didn't check to see when Harry would be back. He passed Merlin a few times, but neither caught the other's eye.

He simply focused on working, training, avoiding, until at last he could fall in an exhausted heap on his bed, too tired to think the mattress was anything but heavenly to lie on. In the last few hours a strange gnawing sensation had begun to creep through his body from his chest, as though something was scratching along his insides and it had made it even harder to concentrate than it would have been otherwise, with everything that had happened within the last twenty-four hours. Merlin, when he had last seen him, had looked harrowed. It grew worse throughout the night, leaving him unable to sleep. Beyond the growing nausea and aches he was constantly plagued by flashing images that he couldn't quite make out and knew that he wouldn't want to see clearly.

When he sat down down in the hall the next day for a final discussion on the wedding ceremony Tilde threw him a worried glance, but he shook his head at her unspoken suggestion, leaning in to whisper. “Just nerves. Couldn't sleep.”

The scratching had worsened, feeling like tiny vicious bites across his body. He could worry about that later. His marriage on the day after next took precedence.

The hall slowly filled, advisors, representatives, various nobles and benefactors, who were all gathered to hear the official proclamation of the marriage and the beginning of the proceedings. Eggsy had never seen the hall so filled and yet it still didn't touch the edges.

Once the last formal discussions finished, Eggsy and Tilde would depart for their separate wings of the castle, not to be seen by anyone except for their servants and guard until the ceremony. Everybody else would meanwhile be celebrating and giving offerings to their future rule. Eggsy just wanted this morning over and done with so he could sleep his way through the next two-day festivities and wake up when he was needed to act as groom.

Suddenly he couldn't breathe.

His heart constricted painfully and he tried to shout out that something was wrong – he had been poisoned or somehow magic had broken through Valentine's and Merlin's defences, but he couldn't hear above how much his heart pounded, a desperate beat of something trying to stay alive as claws tore in and pulled it out. Distantly he was sure that he was screaming. It would never end, this pain.

And then, just as it had come, it stopped.

He slowly began to feel his body again and found that he was lying on the floor. He raised his head to worried hands holding onto his arm, searching across his face. Tilde. Beyond her stood Merlin, face white, as though he too had been struck by some unseen hurt.

“Harry's dead,” said Merlin in a hushed voice that carried across the entire hall, echoing over and over in Eggsy's head as though it was getting louder instead of fading.

“No,” choked out Eggsy, feeling Merlin's words dig into him as much as his bond with Harry had caused him to feel his death moments ago.

Tilde took his hand and began to speak to the advisors, quick, clever orders as to what to do, then immediately turned to Merlin for answers, but Eggsy heard none of that.

All he heard, reverberating like a death-knoll, were the words: Harry's dead.

Harry's dead.

Harry's dead.

Through the madness, Eggsy dimly saw several courtiers step forward.

There was an odd shift in the air, as though Eggsy's senses for a moment were sharpened by the way everything had silenced beneath his racing thoughts, and he saw how the first of Tilde's guards had her throat slit by a hidden blade and Roxy killed the man before he could continue towards either Tilde or Eggsy. People began to scream and run about, Roxy guiding Tilde and Eggsy behind her. It was not clear who was attacking and who was defending; only that the former seemed to grow in numbers with every passing second. Eggsy drew his sword as well, and Tilde picked one up from her fallen guard – Amelia, eyes staring at nothing.

From the middle of the fray it began to be clear that the bulk of the attackers bore the same livery, having drawn back fanciful cloaks and baring their armour beneath. It had upon it a symbol that looked exactly like the one Eggsy bore around his neck.

A voice rang out. “Drop your weapons and nobody else need be harmed.”

Heads turned towards Tilde. It was clear that they were outnumbered. Where many on Tilde's side were noblemen, merchants, and various esteemed guests, their attacker had brought knights and soldiers.

She nodded.

“How did your men get through the fucking gates?” she asked, amiably. She still carried her own weapon, as did Eggsy, Roxy, and Anjali, who had manoeuvred herself to their side. Merlin didn't need one, but still carried a hitherto unseen sword that was far larger than anyone else's in the room.

“Valentine made sure of it,” said Gazelle, from where she now stood at the side of the room. She had blood on her, although clearly not her own. “He regrets he cannot be here, but-” she waved her arm, “-he is not a violent man. He doesn't like all this.”

Roxy made to start against her, but Anjali stopped her, murmuring something unintelligible in her ear.

Gazelle smiled and then blew Roxy a kiss.

“Why?” asked Tilde.

The crowds parted and a man stepped through. He was old and gaunt, but had obviously carried himself well in the fight, for he was covered in blood, as was his sword. “I'm sure he'll want to explain, once you give up, your highness,” he said. Then he looked at Eggsy. “I have something for you.”

“Come closer and I'll have something for you as well,” growled Eggsy, sword pointing towards him.

“Eggsy,” the warning came from Merlin. He had gone very pale.

The man sighed. “What he could have seen in you...” he trailed off, reaching for something. “From Harry,” he said. “Before he died.” Two neatly folded sheets of paper, words distinctly scribbled upon them.

“Arthur, give it to the boy. He deserves to know what it says,” said Merlin, sounding calm despite the furrowing of his brow.

Arthur put the letter on the floor and backed away, allowing the group a wide berth. “I made a promise that you would receive it,” he said. “And I am a man of honour.”

Without thinking to question the honesty of that statement Eggsy walked forward and picked it up. He somehow couldn't make out the words, they were all blurred to him, except for the first three: _My Dearest Eggsy,_ in Harry's twirly, over-the-top writing. He looked back at Arthur, seeing nothing of the monster he had expected, but merely a grave, sympathetically condescending man, who pitied him his loss.

“Right,” said Eggsy. He wanted to attack him, raise his sword and run him through before anyone could react. He knew he should try, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to step forwards any further. Some kind of pressure was forcing itself onto him and distantly he was aware that it must be Valentine who was doing this, making his limbs unresponsive and his mind dull. His sword clattered to the floor.

Arthur smiled, kindly, and snapped his fingers. Eggsy was surrounded by his men. “I did what I promised,” said Arthur. “Now it's time for you to join Harry and your father.”

That sounded good to Eggsy's ears. He was very tired and the hall was swimming, millennia of stone seeming to weigh upon him more heavily than it had in all his time here. He dropped to his knees when one of the men roughly pushed him.

Arthur waved a dismissive hand to begin the execution, there was a distant scream, and Eggsy fell to the floor.


	6. The Summoner's Tale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let him come grieving, if he will but come again,  
> Yea, we shall weep with him, moan for his moan.  
> Unless a rock begat thee, thou wilt weep with us.  
> How canst thou not, thyself remembering?  
> Shall not the father weep the son he lost him,
> 
> \- Alcuin "Lament For A Cuckoo" (again, just to rub it in)

Harry's Story

*******************

 

Harry rode with the kind of haste that left no time for considering how poorly he had handled everything. His furious pace meant that both he and his horse were exhausted when he finally took a short break to give it a rest and a chance to graze. He was still a few hours from where he needed to be, but he would make it before dark.

Unfortunately, whilst he had made excellent time, his mind was not as tired out as his body, and he sat at the outskirts of the woods, back against a tree and watching his horse munch on the swaying grass, clinically picking apart every wrong step he had made since first meeting Eggsy, wondering what a braver man might have done and if it would have made a difference.

It was getting colder these days, a hard edge in the wind that threatened but did not yet deliver snow. The leaves on the trees were falling around him, a peaceful scenario warring with his attempts to both find a solution to his current problem with Eggsy, as well as wishing to just forget all about it for the foreseeable future. He wouldn't be forgiven this time. He would have to accept that, but not right now.

Deeming by the placement of the sun that he still had a good hour before he needed to set out again, he pulled out a pen, ink, and paper from his satchel and began to write.

 

_My Dearest Eggsy._

_If you're receiving this letter from someone else's hand, allow me first to say-_

 

Well, that was a maudlin beginning. But he supposed there wasn't much gaiety to add to his words.

He had the urge to explain it all – his first instincts upon seeing Eggsy, the ghosts of the past that affected his decisions, the difficulties he had in allowing another person to know him, after Arthur had twisted his loyalties into something cruel and hard. How many people had he blindly killed in Arthur's name, simply because of an order? How often had Merlin come to him with advice, thinking that reminding him of the past would do anything but throw him into more reckless behaviour? How often had he regretted...? But none of this excused him and he had known from the start that eventually Eggsy would know all his transgressions, either from Harry's own tongue or by his own search. Far better to let it be Harry who ended it all then.

 

A few hours later he arrived at his destination; the outskirts of a seemingly derelict place of worship that bore no signs of the religion it had once preached for, obscured by trees and surrounded by a swampy moat.

He waded through the muddy waters, quietly lamenting the loss of his costly clothes, and reached the far bank without seeing or hearing anything out of the ordinary. Merlin had briefly told him that there had been a very strong signal from this place, indicating some unknown magic-use that was far too suspicious to not be linked to whoever was trying to destroy the princess' marriage.

At first he entered through cracked, vine-overgrown gates into an abandoned courtyard. Once, there had been life here, but now none existed beyond the beetles and spiders that made the cracked stones their home, and the birds that nested in the crevices of the building. He drew his sword, a prickling sensation of unease beginning to spread through his body.

He reached the door, finding it splintered to pieces long ago, the interior dark and silent. The place was filled with overthrown pews that centred on an effigy at the far end of the wide room, but it was long destroyed, first by old battle and then withered with age. It smelt like dust and rot, as well as some kind of pungent vapour that was given off by a heavy, dark fluid that was strewn across the floor that looked like pitch. There had been a fire here, once, and Harry could see the destruction on the walls, although it hadn't reached the ceiling or middle of the floor. Judging by the lack of footprints, nobody had been here for some time.

He sighed. Another dead end and on the eve of the wedding celebrations. Whoever this was had sent him on a wild chase to nowhere. The thought came to him, just as he realised what that meant. That whatever was happening would take place at the castle and he wasn't there to help Eggsy.

He turned quickly and was suddenly assaulted by a vicious pressure around his head, like a metal casing that was squeezed ever tighter. He fell to his knees, dropping his sword in the act of trying to pry it off him, frustration adding to the pain when he felt that there was nothing there to remove.

“You made me kill professor Arnold,” said a voice. He recognised it. Valentine. “Goddamn loved professor Arnold.”

Harry shut his eyes to try and focus. “What did you do to me?” he asked.

“In simple terms, it's a device that widens and strengthens the range of my influence, whilst masking the trail that would lead it back to me. Right now I'm using it to get into your mind and I have to be honest, sifting through your thoughts is a pain. You're the final test before the wedding.”

Harry could hear his own pulse rocketing over the sound of Valentine speaking. If he could just get out of his range, away from his voice-

“You know what this is like,” said Valentine. “It's like those stories where the knight breaks free at the last moment to save the princess.”

“Sounds good to me,” managed Harry.

“Well, this ain't that kind of story. I _was_ hoping it'd be the wizard, get him out of my way before I started, but oh well. Can't have everything I guess. Got an old friend to see you though.” Valentine's voice faded from Harry's head, although the insistent, pounding ache on its own was almost worse. He grit his teeth and looked up from where he was kneeling.

“Such a disappointment,” said Arthur, looking down at him. “You were the best.”

“He's not going stop with the north,” said Harry, his voice worryingly shaky. “You're next if you don't let me stop him.”

“Now I think I've given you enough chances,” said Arthur. “You failed to kill Lee Unwin's family all those years ago and now you've again shown where your loyalties lie. No, you'll do one last thing for me and then you're going to have to die. I am sorry it came to this.”

Harry smiled, a pained feral grimace that nevertheless seemed to have the desired effect of making Arthur frown. “You know how happy I am to serve the rightful king,” he said. Arthur slapped him across the face, sending him sprawling. The pounding was drowning out almost everything else, except for a rage, something that he couldn't control, nor did he know where it came from.

“I'm not going to stay to watch this, Harry. You know I always respected you,” said Arthur. “But needs must. You did this to yourself.” He turned and was about to leave, when Harry gripped his arm.

“Wait!” he said. “I would be... grateful. If you could see this given to Lee Unwin's son.” In his trembling hand was the letter that he had spent his last few hours of peace to write. Arthur looked from it to him, then took it from his grasp, shrugging off Harry's hold on him.

“I am a man of my word,” he said and disappeared, as Harry gripped the side of his head to try and minimize the pain. It did no good, leaving him writhing on the floor for what felt like hours. Sometimes it dissipated enough for him to see the room, but never left him the strength to get off the floor. It was like a fever running through him, scratching and gnawing.

And suddenly it stopped, as though a fire had been snuffed out and the smoke dissipated from his vision. He shakily got to his knees. His sword still lay beside him and he picked it up. His entire body was weak from convulsions and not having slept since the night before he and Eggsy had fought, but he stumbled towards the exit. If he could just get to his horse, he might be able to warn them in time. It was still mostly dark outside, but dawn was beginning to peek through, an alarming reminder of how little time Harry had until the ceremony began.

He almost fell again as he reached the doors, tripping over a broken stone, and then he saw them.

A number of people stood like ghosts in the courtyard, carrying torches and weapons, but staring at nothing. He had seen them before. The mob from the marketplace who had listened to Arnold speak, scum that preached doomsday and nonsensical hatred. He wondered how they had been lured here. Perhaps Arnold had promised them something. Harry didn't care, he merely needed to get past.

As he tried to hurry away one of them looked at him. A blonde woman with dirt-streaked cheeks and a thin, hungry stare. At first her face was as blank as the rest of them, but then she seemed to recognise him, because she pointed a jittering finger in his direction. “You leave this place of worship!” she screamed at him. “Leave like the infidel you are. You cannot be saved now! You will eat your babies and you will drown in the blood of the Lord-”

He snapped, suddenly walking to her, grabbing her by the back of the head and pulling back, slicing open her neck with his sword.

Chaos erupted.

Everybody began to fight one another, and Harry stood in the midst of it, a blinding savage hatred that he couldn't control driving him to a ruthless, but uncalculated assault, one person falling after the next as he killed all that weren't busy killing each other. He had his sword knocked out of his hands by a feral attacker, whom he punched in the face and gouged his eyes out, before slamming his head multiple times to the stone floor, another ending beaten to death with a rock, and then someone rammed a knife into his shoulder, and he turned and killed her too, before drawing out the knife and embedding it through the head of the next person that came at him. He hardly noticed what he was doing, only that everybody had to die. He was punched in the face and fell to the ground, just as someone screaming and on fire ran into the temple. It didn't take long for the flames to catch, but Harry was already moving on to the next target, and the next, and the next. The fight seemed to never end, some distinct, inner part of him registering wounds to his person in the shape of fists and kicks, sharp objects and rocks, fire and teeth, but the rage overshadowed his attempts to stop himself, to feel any horror at what was happening.

Until at last, suddenly, he rammed the sharp underside of one of the torches up through the jaw of the last man and he found himself alone. The rage abated into a shaking fatigue and he fell to the ground, breathing heavily. Everything hurt, but he needed to move, needed to... he fell into a fitful sleep amongst the bodies as the temple burned to ashes behind him.

“Good job,” Valentine's voice returned to him, jolting him awake like a jailer's last words to a condemned man. Harry wishing that he could claw him out of his mind, but he was trapped in some invisible snare that he couldn't be free of. Flakes of ash hovered serenely in the air around him. “Gonna work pretty well now you've helped me with the defects. Have to admit I was worried I was going to turn everyone into the kind of madman that you just were, but I know where I went wrong now. It's going to work perfectly. Afraid you've outgrown your use though and this time I'm not letting you get away.”

Harry managed an exhausted laugh. “People say that to me all the time,” he said, ignoring the sting of pain from where he had been kicked and later stabbed in the side. _That doesn't seem a good sign_ , he thought absently. He should get that looked at when he got back. Merlin would be most displeased, Eggsy even more so. Eggsy-

There was a burst of light behind his eyes and Harry was gone.


	7. The King's Tale Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I desire to write to thee, soul most beloved of my soul, though I intend to write to thee, I know not how best to begin my address. For whatever I know about thee is sweet and joyous to my spirit: whatever I desire for thee is the best which my mind can conceive. For I saw thee such that I loved thee as thou knowest;
> 
> \- Letter From Anselm To Gundulf

Eggsy's Story

*******************

 

Eggsy woke up with a headache to rival the one he had received after his first trip to a tavern at the age of fourteen. He had dimly remembered that night involving a fist-fight, his face buried happily between someone's tits, and giving someone else a messy blow-job. One of the few fun – if hazy – memories he possessed from before he had met Harry.

He had no memory of what had happened to have him end up here, in a small, but comfortable bed and dressed in a new tunic. He grimaced when he sat up, feeling a small lump on the back of his head from where he had fallen to the floor after – Harry was dead. The reminder came to him with a wave of nausea that left him retching. Harry was dead and Arthur and Valentine had taken the kingdom and he... he had been about to be executed.

He managed not to vomit, but squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

“Good morning,” said Tilde, coming in. She looked well-rested and resplendent, dressed in a simply white gown and her hair loose for the first time since Eggsy had met her. It fell in waves across her shoulders. “You have been asleep for a long time.”

Eggsy squinted at her. “You're okay,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “Me, Roxy, Anjali, Merlin. We all made it out.”

“How- where are we? How'd we escape? What happened to Valentine and Arthur?”

Tilde sat on his bed and handed him a glass of water, which he accepted gratefully.

“Merlin and Anjali together managed to break through Valentine's spell, whatever it was. He can explain it more, but it's to control people, lots of them, at the same time. It is very powerful. When that happened the fighting began again, but you fainted. I think it needed to be a lot stronger to control you. Roxy and I managed to drag you away and we fought through to one of the royal escape routes, before Valentine could regain control. And now we are here. At your mother's house. She is a very nice woman, and your sister.” She smiled when Eggsy's eyes widened. “I will go tell the others that you are awake, oh-” she grasped into the gown, “from Harry. I managed to pick it off the floor.” She pressed the letter into Eggsy's hands. “I will give you a few minutes to read it and then you can come out to make a plan with the rest of us.” She gave him a last kiss on the cheek and left the room.

The letter was crumpled now, a simple page of words the last thing Harry had left behind of himself. He could see that Tilde had tried her best to smooth out the creases, but Eggsy nevertheless ran his hand over it, trying to restore it to the way it had been when he had first received it. He didn't begin to read for another minute, then took a deep breath, and looked at the first line again.

 

_My Dearest Eggsy._

_If you're receiving this letter from someone else's hand, allow me first to say that I apologise for dying when I promised that I would return. I try to let my actions speak for me when words cannot, but in this case I must have been careless._

_I have been writing these letters for a number of years as a way to make sure that all my affairs will be in order, should I be unable to take care of them myself, but can you believe, this is the first time I've written a letter with the fullest intent of returning to someone in order to hand it over myself._

_You and I did not part on the best of terms and to whatever extent it is possible, I wish to rectify the situation by explaining myself, in person, but also through this letter, as I find writing easier than speech on occasion. I think now that both you and Merlin have confirmed it, it's safe to say that it's better to do it this way than waiting for me to open my mouth._

_Firstly, on the matter of your father and my part to play in his death. It has long weighed upon me and I have questioned myself many times over as to whether I could have done something differently. I hadn't known about Arthur's plans, although he was my mentor, the man who had first introduced to me the idea of becoming a kingsman. On the day that he put them into action, he demanded that I choose sides between your father and him by executing Lee. Before I could make the decision, Lee challenged him to a trial by combat. I did not kill him myself, but I watched as Arthur did, and I will always regret my cowardice, even if it brings me some small measure of comfort to know that having helped you survive you have now grown into such an admirable man._

_Our second main quarrel lies in my intentions towards you, which for about a week after meeting you were not particularly honourable. I must confess I have lived in Arthur's shadow for so long that I even now am fearful of breaking from it. I once told you that I always intended to find you. This was true. However, my long-ago fantasies of saving you and bringing you back to your father's country eroded with time into forgotten platitudes and lies that I was doing enough good by speaking as Arthur's advisor. I am afraid that I am not the knight in shining armour that you may have once thought me to be, but I hope perhaps one day to be a man that you could be proud of._

_I have some difficulties with forming the kind of attachment that you and I have shared for a brief, but cherished time. I know that ostensibly I have been teaching you in our period together, but on the other hand I genuinely believe that you've been teaching me too. I've introduced you to good clothes and fine wines and foreign languages and hopefully to the confidence that will make you the king I know you can be... but you've taught me what was missing from my life._

_My work has brought me satisfaction, but at the same time I've been very lonely over the years too. I've treasured the time we've had just talking about all the stupid, little things. Thank you for bringing some warmth to my life and please do not see this as a way to guilt you into forgiving me. I merely wish to make my gratitude for all you have given and shared with me known, as well as to profess my pride in the legacy that you are upholding._

_You have created something wonderful here and I am pleased and honoured to have begun that journey with you, even if you should decide that we can no longer share it after this day. I hope that we will have the chance to speak more comprehensively on the matter once I am returned, but that is fully up to you. If I do not, know that you have proven that a man is capable of anything in life. All that is needed is a little opportunity and someone who believes in us._

 

_Yours H Hart_

_Galahad_

 

_Oh, and one final request: If I am not there with you right now, please tell Merlin to take care of Mr. Pickle. He'll know what I mean._

 

Eggsy entered the small living area a few minutes later, expression betraying nothing, except for some redness around his eyes and nose. Nobody drew attention to it. Roxy rushed forward to hug him, the others holding back as she half-strangled him, until he let out a small, choking noise and a laugh and she let him go.

“Close one,” said Eggsy, and she nodded.

Michelle stood a little further back, looking a little unsure as to whether to copy Roxy's actions, or hold back in case of Eggsy's judgment. It was a fair assessment, the last they had seen of one another had been before Eggsy had known about his father or her plans for him, but there weren't even embers remaining of any anger he might have felt. It had all been long swept away, even before he and Harry had spent the night together.

By now though the ashes of his former life meant that Eggsy himself was uncertain about how to greet her. He held himself differently, he knew. Taller, broader, not the scrappy hungry son that had left her behind with Dean. He almost felt that she wouldn't recognise him, but when he met her eyes and her fond smile, that insecurity left him and he quickly walked over to hug her. “Mum,” he murmured into her hair.

Behind her sat a curly-haired toddler and gazed up at him with huge, confused eyes. “Oh my days, look how big you've got,” he beamed and knelt down to caress her cheek with his thumb.

The other four let him have his moment, respectfully waiting for him to straighten up and turn to them, which he did after a few seconds. “So. How're we doing this? We've got to get back there as soon as possible.”

“Now, now,” said Merlin. “Like I said when I had to haul these three out, we live to fight another day. That isn't a chance we should waste on half-cocked plans.”

“You guys didn't want to hide out either?” asked Eggsy, a little bit of his bravado returning now that they were forming a plan of attack.

“Trust me, we didn't make it easy for him to get us out in the first place. But he had some compelling arguments,” said Anjali.

“Such as you not being conscious,” added Roxy.

“And a lot of magic to keep you all from charging straight back in. I thought you were all strategists,” grumbled Merlin, for a moment a reminder that he was the oldest person in the room and wasn't appreciating the under-thirties contribution.

“Speaking of magic, how did you not see what Valentine was doing?” It was Anjali who spoke, but the question was mirrored on the faces of the others.

“... I suspected him,” said Merlin. “But I couldn't discover any reason why he would wish your majesty harm. He did not seem to wish to lead, but it seems I was mistaken in that assumption. Your head councillor, Halvik, Harry knew from the start was a shady bastard, but he was clearly not clever enough to do it on his own. That was what we were hoping to find out when Harry last left the castle. He was getting desperate by then, aware that time was running out, but adamant that we needed to keep it between ourselves, in case knowledge of a plot would cause the perpetrators to strike early.”

Anjali scoffed. “Your plan didn't make a difference.” Merlin glared in her direction and Tilde took a diplomatic step between them.

“I too do not know what Valentine stands to gain,” said Tilde. “It is no longer important. What matters is how we kill him and return to my scheduled marriage that he has so rudely interrupted.”

“To begin with you're going to stay here,” said Roxy.

“Wh-” Tilde looked like she had never been ordered anything in her life.

“No. There are two possible outcomes – we win or we don't. Our defeat would be worsened if you are also captured.”

Tilde flushed. “I can fight. This is not the time to be sentimental.”

“I'm not,” said Roxy, still coolly in command. “Either you will be executed and your line ended, or worse, forced to marry Arthur or someone of his choosing to cement his legitimacy. If you're still alive after all this, still able to fight, then there is less likelihood that people will accept him rather than flock to your side.”

Tilde appeared about to say something, but elected not to, for now. It was clear the argument was far from over.

“I'm coming,” said Eggsy, suddenly sure of something.

“The same applies to you-” Roxy began.

“It don't,” said Eggsy. “I'm not a public figure, or politically important. Arthur made sure of that when he killed my dad and I was just a kid. Easier to take over a kingdom when the heir's not old enough to fight back or be remembered when he is. But now I can make people remember. If I kill him, publicly. Only way to prove to them I deserve the throne and...” he stopped for a few seconds, eyes finding Michelle's. “For my dad...” she nodded, a few tears streaming down her face. “And for Harry,” he said, to the rest of the assembled. “He sacrificed himself to make this possible, so I'm going to damn well see it through to the end.”

“A noble sentiment,” said Merlin drily. “That doesn't change the fact that we don't have a plan. How are you going to even face Arthur without any men?”

“Easy,” said Eggsy, grinning. “I'm gonna walk up to the main gates. He won't say no to seeing me, being a man of honour and all that. And while I keep all eyes on me, you're gonna get to work on dismantling Valentine's magic and freeing the prisoners.”

Roxy took a deep breath. “Main gates?” she asked.

“First time I arrived at the castle in chains, through a side door. I fucking deserve the main gates this time,” he said.

“Fine,” said Roxy. “I will go with you. We can be the distraction. Anjali, you get Merlin in the best way through the castle and lead him to where he needs to go to break Valentine's spell. Michelle, you watch over Tilde.”

“I will not stay behind like a frightened child,” said Tilde. “And you will not order me to do so,” she added as Roxy made a motion to speak. She walked to her, one hand on her cheek. “We win or we fail together. As always.”

The moment was so tender and private that everyone assembled tactfully looked away as Tilde leaned in to give her a soft kiss. Roxy gave a shuddering breath and nodded.

 

Before they left, Eggsy gave Harry's letter and the pendant to his mother. “In case this all goes tits up. Take care of Daisy, yeah?” he said, going for light-hearted, but feeling his voice shake slightly.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I'm so proud of you, love.”

Daisy appeared from behind her skirts and raised her arms in a bid to be picked up. Eggsy gladly acquiesced and hugged her tightly. “And you take care of mum, right Dais?”

Daisy, not understanding, nodded seriously anyway, and he gave her to Michelle.

“Thanks for bringing us to my mum,” said Eggsy to Merlin.

“Best place to hide.”

“Yeah, but... thanks.”

Merlin nodded at him.

“Also your mum provided us with food and weapons,” said Tilde. “We are very grateful for your hospitality.”

Michelle shrugged. “You look like you'll be a match for my son, you should be well-fed to be able to deal with a kingdom.” The two of them hugged as well, Michelle saying something to her that was too soft for anyone else to hear.

“I'll be back in the morning. Promise,” said Eggsy.

 

Tilde, Roxy, and Eggsy reached the castle entrance amidst awed crowds turning up to watch. Everyone recognised Tilde and guessed from rumours who the man who stood with her was. Eggsy felt the power of their belief in him in a way he hadn't understood before this moment. He was there to retake the throne, they whispered. It went some way to giving him courage. When the guards appeared to take them away, they were too embarrassed to put them into chains, but respectfully led them through the massive, wooden gates and into the courtyard beyond. They had their weapons taken away from them – again without force, but rather by suggestion – and then guided directly to the hall.

Arthur sat on Eggsy's chair, the one next to it empty, as Valentine favoured standing behind the king. Gazelle, as usual, stood at his side. The dead had all been removed and the blood cleaned away since the battle from the day before. All those who now stood in the hall were a mix of sincere followers, opportunistic bastards, nervous courtiers, and people held there against their will by Valentine's magic. It was not possible to tell them all apart.

“I'm surprised,” said Arthur, when they approached him. “I thought it'd be a lot harder to catch you, but here you are, wondering back of your own free will.”

“Funny how that works,” said Eggsy.

Tilde stepped before them. “Valentine, I am giving you one chance to stop. You may choose exile over death if you do.” Despite how bare she stood with only her white gown to protect her, compared to the fancy armour and liveries of those who surrounded them, she appeared far more regal than Valentine, or even Arthur, stooped and sneering on the throne. The facade that he portrayed when needed of a benevolent ruler was not in force now and he directed most of his hostility at Eggsy's person. He wondered if there lay more beneath it than him being the one hurdle left between him and the legitimacy of his crown. It felt like a personal revulsion. On Arthur's left sat Charlie as head councillor, smirking at the show before him.

“I'm so sorry it had to happen this way,” said Valentine. “But my power is already beginnning to stretch beyond the castle. Soon everyone in the city will be subject to my will. But I want you to know,” he said with sincerity, “that it was never my intention to see you harmed. It still isn't.”

“Of course. You just want to subjugate the people. That is much easier with me still alive as a pretend monarch. Until you have taken the entire kingdom, of course, and then you intend to move beyond? You do know that my friends will not be happy with what you have done, you risk war.”

“Arthur'll help me out with that.” He clapped Arthur on the shoulder, like an old friend.

“He won't,” said Eggsy.

“And why's that?” asked Valentine.

“Because I'm about to kill him.”

The laughter began with Arthur himself, and spread throughout the hall, bouncing across the stone. Eggsy calmly let it happen, waiting until it had died down completely before continuing. “You're a man of honour, yeah? That's what Harry told me, and you. So do the honourable thing and make this about you and me. If you win, you get everything. Don't have to make this any harder than that.”

Arthur leaned forwards, but before he could speak, Charlie had stood. “Let me do it for you,” he said. Somebody coughed awkwardly into the following silence, as Arthur turned with slow, patronising deliberation to observe him. At last he nodded in a “go ahead,” gesture.

Eggsy frowned. “No offence, but I didn't come to fight your lackey.”

“No, you came to fight an old man. I think this seems more fair, don't you?”

Eggsy shrugged and set his face into an unimpressed moue as Charlie sauntered towards him with a smirk. “This time I can finally give you what you deserve!”

“Knew you'd jump at the chance to serve a new master,” said Eggsy. “But didn't think you'd be stupid enough to think you could beat me.”

Charlie snorted. “My family were in on it from the start. And I'm going to finish it.”

“Are we going to stand around here all day, or are we gonna fight?” said Eggsy, darkly.

Charlie suddenly struck. Eggsy parried easily, again, and again. He didn't attempt to counter, but merely let Charlie attack. It didn't take Charlie long to turn from his perfect form to a desperate snarling offense as he tried, and failed, again to get past Eggsy's defences. This time Eggsy moved in close when he knocked it away, and grabbed his sword hand, holding it tightly. His own edge was held against Charlie's neck. “Give up,” suggested Eggsy pleasantly.

Charlie kneed him in the groin and he fell back with a grunt, both Tilde and Roxy yelling out that he was cheating, but it didn't matter. Charlie hit him over the head with the hilt and he was on the floor, feeling dizzy. His body was protesting after not having fully recovered from the last few days mistreatment. He felt his sword being kicked out of his hand, and then a point tapping the underside of his chin.

“Get the fuck up. Nice and slow.”

Eggsy did, keeping his eyes defiantly fixed on Charlie's, and not on the blade that lightly tickled his throat. “Not bad. Gonna finish the job?”

Charlie suddenly hesitated and his face turned briefly towards Arthur. It was all the opening that Eggsy needed and he ducked beneath the sword and headbutted him below the sternum. He groaned and doubled over and Eggsy grabbed his head and rammed his knee into it. Charlie fell and didn't move.

Eggsy tottered to his own sword, blinking and breathing heavily. “Alright, that was your minion. Your turn.” He pointed the sword in Arthur's direction. It didn't shake in his hand.

Arthur sighed, as though terribly inconvenienced by all of this, and stood slowly, advancing like an ageing predator about to teach a young upstart a lesson. “You're a bloody disgrace,” he spat at the heap on the floor, and drew his own sword.

Eggsy felt the sticky sensation of blood from where Charlie had hit him, and a persistent edge-of-sight blurriness was fucking up his peripheral vision.

“I fought your father like this,” said Arthur. “Harry taught him as well. It wasn't good enough then, and it won't be now.”

“Yeah, but you weren't so old then,” winked Eggsy.

Arthur's face twisted, and he attacked.

For someone who looked so advanced in years, his swing was enough for Eggsy's block to shake his entire arm and was followed by a strike that Eggsy only just dodged. He had clearly fought in duels many times before and would have been Eggsy's match even if he had trained from a younger age or been less tired. As it was, Eggsy could only deflect and evade, feeling himself pushed back towards the onlookers with every blow.

He noticed the same, strange heaviness from the day before beginning to creep upon him, and wondered whether they had failed, if Merlin and Anjali had been caught or killed and this was it, this fight, when Arthur managed to slice across his arm. The sharp stab of pain had the contradictory effect of clearing Eggsy's mind enough that he immediately countered him with a surprisingly well-placed set of lunges, advancing forward with a burst of adrenalin.

He managed to nick Arthur first across the cheek and then open a deeper gash in his hand, but by then Arthur had recovered enough to act again. They found themselves far closer, Eggsy only just managing to grab Arthur's arm to stop him from cutting him in the side and Arthur in turn holding tightly on to him, in what became a dance to see who held the physical high ground. Eggsy managed to yank Arthur's hand to the side, causing him to drop his sword, but could feel himself slipping back, unsure if he was gaining ground. He gripped at Arthur's robes to keep balance, when suddenly-

Arthur stepped back.

Eggsy stumbled, but managed to keep upright, sword still in the right direction, and not yet about to faint. But Arthur merely stood, watching him, arm lowered.

“Well?” said Eggsy, panting heavily.

“I think that's enough, boy,” he said.

“It's not _fucking_ enough,” growled Eggsy. “Not until I've beaten you.”

“We both know you won't.” He nodded to his knights, who stepped forward and disarmed him, despite Tilde's and Roxy's protests. Arthur walked up to Eggsy, but didn't yet give the order.

“Our plans originally intended for you to be dead by Galahad's hands, did you know that? I predicted you'd be a problem, but I think it had more to do with testing his loyalty, seeing as it had wavered once before when it came to your family. Wouldn't kill your father, helped you to escape, but I thought he had outgrown that... annoying old faithfulness. He was very sure as well. After he failed I thought I ought to take matters into my own hands. But here you still are, and so I think it's acceptable for us to bend our plans a little bit.”

Eggsy's eyes were wide and blown, seeing before him as he had done when he read the letter, how Harry had been right there, refusing to give in, about to defend Lee with his life rather than follow Arthur's words, only for Lee to step between them.

Arthur smiled, benevolently. “I could let you live, for his sake. Bring you to court, even train you as a kingsman. You have a gift, in that, at least, Galahad was not mistaken, even if his loyalties in you were. In Harry's honour, I am inviting you to be a part of Valentine's new world. If we can see eye-to-eye on certain matters that is.” It was a strange sentimentality from the man who had betrayed Harry to his death, but Eggsy had been able to glean from all of Harry's half-truths that he had meant it when he had said that they had once been friends. Arthur had, after all, brought him the letter, even if he hadn't intended to let him read it. Not even extending that amount of respect to Harry's memory, although he appeared to want to do so now. But no, Eggsy knew that whatever code Arthur had, it did not extend as far as kindness.

“I'd rather be with Harry,” Eggsy snarled. “Thanks.”

“So be it.”

He stepped closer and drew a hidden dagger.

Or where it had been. Now Eggsy was twirling it between his fingers, looking exaggeratedly innocent. “That's the problem with us common types. I learnt a lot since I got here,” he said. “But sleight of hand. I had that down already.” He threw it and it landed cleanly in Arthur's chest.

He slumped onto his knees in surprise. “You dirty, fucking little prick,” he managed to gasp. And then he fell backwards onto the floor. The blood began to sluggishly pool around the wound.

There was a lot of confusion. Some had clearly been hoping that Arthur would win and now didn't know whether Eggsy and Tilde or Valentine and Gazelle were their best bet. At least a few appeared gratified. Before Eggsy could speak into the disarray, Valentine stepped forward, smiling. “We have a new king then,” he said, carefully avoiding looking at Arthur's body as he leaned in close to Eggsy. “Thanks for getting rid of the old one. You're going to have the shortest rule in history.” He turned to walk away, and Eggsy found himself surrounded by his guards. Ahead of them stood Gazelle, a slight smirk playing across her lips.

“Kill him,” said Valentine.

Tilde placed herself between Eggsy and the rest, gripping her sword. “I will kill any who try.”

The hesitation showed that even most of those on Valentine's side were not keen on harming the princess.

Gazelle walked forwards alone, eyes locking with Eggsy's in a promise that she would be the one to end it, but before she could move, Valentine spoke. “You know what? I can't stand all this violence, we're going to do this properly now. Your highness, if you come with me _peacefully_ I'll let the others go. How about that?”

“Why should I trust you not to kill them all?” she said.

“I need you to get this region back on track, as a figurehead only, naturally. You're popular, inspirational, and you have the power to galvanize the people. I need you to be willing to do that, not fighting the progress we'll be making. You have one chance.”

Tilde looked at the others, her expression strangely calm. Then she walked over to Roxy and kissed her, a short, sweet goodbye. Roxy didn't move, rooted to the spot with the knowledge that she couldn't stop her. Tilde next turned to Eggsy and leaned in to give him one last kiss as well, a soft brush of lips against lips. “Not the wedding I was hoping for,” she said. “The tapestries that will be made to tell of today however, will be lovely.”

She allowed two men to walk beside her whilst she was marched towards a side-entrance. Valentine made to follow. “You can kill them when I'm _out_ of the room, Gazelle.”

“No!” Tilde fought and twisted as they took her away, managing to pull out a knife from one of the soldiers' belts and slashing open the hands of the men who held her. She was bodily flung against the nearest wall, her wrist painfully held while the knife was pulled out of her hand and then, dazedly, she was finally successfully removed. Throughout the violence, Roxy had made a move forward, but was blocked by Eggsy's hand on her wrist. “Wait for Merlin and Anjali,” he said quietly.

Valentine frowned. It had not been the quiet departure that he had hoped for. A few of his men looked doubtful again. He cleared his throat. “I am so sorry for all this unpleasantness. Gazelle, you know what to do.” And he was gone, Roxy and Eggsy unable to follow.

Gazelle moved.

It was unlike what Eggsy had seen before and he realised that what he had seen of her in the training ring had been a toned down version of her actual abilities as she came forward with a speed and aggression that none of them were prepared for – except for Roxy, who managed to parry her first attack, leading Gazelle to focus all her attention on her.

They both moved like dancers, but with a ferocity that tended to belong to fighters far larger of stature. It went much faster than Eggsy's battles, a flurry of blades whilst they both ducked and jumped to avoid the other. Roxy began to look as though she was losing, when she manoeuvred them towards Arthur's body, where she quicker than blinking pulled the knife from his chest and flung it at Gazelle, grazing her arm and giving her an opening to push back. Gazelle snarled and fought back with a viciousness that seemed to grow from a particular hatred, but suddenly she gasped, and stopped.

Roxy had her sword at her throat in a second, breathing heavily, but stopping short of actually hurting her. Eggsy could not see what had caused Gazelle to stop, but she grabbed at her arm over the scratch from the knife, staring up at Roxy with something imploring in her eyes, before sliding down, gripping at Roxy.

“Gazelle!” yelled Roxy, dropping her sword and kneeling down to cradle her head. Eggsy both took steps towards her, but was stopped by the guards. She looked up at the movement, finding him in the crowd. “It was poisoned,” she said. “I didn't know... I didn't...”

Eggsy didn't know what to say, wouldn't have if they weren't about to be killed anyway. He wondered briefly if Tilde knew of Roxy and Gazelle's past, but it didn't matter right now. It might never matter, if this was going to be the end. The guards advanced and he managed to to punch one of them to the floor, wrestling his sword from his hands and swinging it at the next to come at him.

It was clear that this would be a desperate, final attempt, but some small part of Eggsy thought he was okay with dying like this; for something that mattered. And maybe he could give Harry the bollocking he deserved in the afterlife and then forgive him, rather than having to face the idea of the rest of his life without him. Roxy had picked up her sword again, having to fend off her own attackers, but Eggsy was unable to spare her a glance as he fought. His training was paying off though, Harry would be proud.

It was chaotic and brutal, one after another falling beneath his sword within a few seconds. He didn't know whether the crowd against him was thinning or not, but if he could just hold out, ignore the small cuts that managed to find themselves on his person before he felled opponent after opponent.

It finally happened.

Everyone surrounding them began to scream and scratch at themselves and pull their hair, like they were trying to rid themselves of some invisible hive of insects that lodged within them. And then, in a burst of colours, blood, and brain, heads began to combust with loud _bangs_ that fizzled away as the bodies slumped to the floor of the hall.

After a minute it stopped. Many of those who had been affected were still alive, amongst them Ryan, Jamal, Adeola and Raziya. Halvik's brain had been one of the first to go, but Eggsy didn't have the time to consider why some had survived and others not. He and Roxy immediately ran towards where Valentine and Tilde had disappeared, They quickly spotted them at the top of a flight of stairs, where Valentine had been waiting for Gazelle to tell him it was over. When he saw the two of them instead he gave quick orders to his guards and they picked up an unconscious Tilde, running in the opposite direction from Valentine.

When they reached a divergence, Roxy and Eggsy hesitated for just a moment. “You go right, I go left,” said Roxy and hurried off after Tilde.

As he ran, Eggsy steadfastly continued to try to ignore the growing exhaustion that had been with him for days now, but it was returning, along with the numerous cuts and bruises that littered his body.

His chase led him back to his own room, surprisingly. Valentine had managed to give him the slip a couple of times, but Eggsy had constantly chosen the right path. Something had been pulling him there it seemed and he realised that there were vestiges of Valentine's power that Merlin hadn't been able to get rid of that Eggsy had instinctively followed.

For a moment he stood panting in the room, holding up a hand to stop Eggsy's advances. “Look, this isn't a fair fight,” he said. “You're pretty hardy, you know that right? Would've made a damn fine king.”

Eggsy looked at the man who had killed Harry, who had tried to topple this entire kingdom into civil dispute and tyranny. “There's one thing I don't get,” he said, sword remaining raised. “Why'd you do it?”

“Why?” Valentine straightened himself. “Because you, all of you, are the same. I've seen kings and queens and some of them aren't half bad, but fuck, the ones that are? What we need is a differently led society, officials who're working for the people.”

“We had that,” said Eggsy. “You twisted them to your will.”

“I just talked. They listened. Well, some of them.”

Eggsy took a step forward.

“You want to kill a defenceless man?” said Valentine.

Eggsy stopped. This wasn't the heat of battle. He had never killed a man in cold blood before and even with the knowledge of everything that he had done, it didn't seem right. He lowered his arm. Valentine smiled, then he lifted a hand and Eggsy was slammed into the wall, almost dropping his sword with the force of the impact. He fell to his knees and tried to stand, but found whatever invisible force had pushed him before held him in place now. His knuckles whitened with the attempt to push himself up.

“You were one of the good ones,” said Valentine. “If that helps.”

“You know what your problem is,” said Eggsy through gritted teeth. “You talk a good game, but in the end you just want to be another damn king. But you've already lost. All your followers are dead or pulled out of your trance.” He smiled, twisting into it with a triumphant satisfaction in being able to gall him one last time before death.

Valentine's eyes narrowed. “You shit. This is for killing all my friends.” Something tightened around Eggsy's throat. He wanted to grab at it, but his hands were still fixed to the floor. He gagged, mouth gaping for air that wouldn't come. The dizziness now hit him full force and the pinpricks of fuzziness from the edges of his eyes became bigger, filling in his vision. So that was how it was going to end.

There was a sound at the door. The pressure loosened slightly and Eggsy could gasp a lungful of air, coughing as he turned his head to see...

“Harry?”

 


	8. The King's Tale Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been saying it so long to you, you just wouldn't listen. Every time you said 'Farm Boy do this' you thought I was answering 'As you wish' but that's only because you were hearing wrong. 'I love you' was what it was, but you never heard.  
> ― William Goldman, The Princess Bride
> 
>  
> 
> If you're wondering how much of this is ad verbatim miracle max:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9tAKLTktY0
> 
> and To The Pain (aka one of the greatest moments in film history):
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_keWS1i3RA

Harry's story

*******************

 

Harry opened his eyes.

That was the first impossible thing.

The next was that he felt fine. And angry. “I'll take you all together!” he yelled at the two people hovering over him. Unfortunately, when he made to stand, nothing seemed to work. “Why won't my arms move?” he asked the man closest to him.

“You've been mostly dead all day,” he said. He was tall, pale, well-built, and attractive, and seemed to think it was a funny situation to be in.

“We had Ginger make a pill to bring you back,” said another man behind him. Slightly darker skin. Moustache. Also attractive, but without the same amount of bulk as the first.

“Who are you?” asked Harry. “Are we enemies? Why am I here? Where's Eggsy?”

“Let me explain,” said the second man. “No, there's too much. Let me sum up.”

The two men were a part of a secret group that belonged to a neighbouring kingdom in the West, and had been tracking Valentine's illicit magical dealings to the old temple on the outskirts of their territory. Upon seeing the smoke from the crumbling temple, they had made a greater haste than usual and had been met with a confusion of dismembered and burnt bodies and in the middle, Harry, seeming for all the world as dead as the rest, except for a strange, glowing light around him.

Making a quick decision, they had brought him to the nearest physician, a miracle-worker by the name of Ginger, who once upon a time had worked at Tilde's court before being secretly ejected under orders from Valentine for meddling with science and magic together.

She was clearly still very bitter about it.

“We need a miracle,” they had said.

“I'm retired, and besides why would you want someone the king's stinking wizard fired? I might kill whoever you want to meet the miracle.”

“He's already dead.”

“He is? I'll take a look. Bring him in.”

They had lain Harry on Ginger's table, and she had taken one look at his beaten and broken body and said, “I've seen worse. Have you got money?”

The two men, whilst honourably working for an organisation that had a great deal of money, did not possess much on their persons. “Sixty-five,” the attractive, slimmer one had said.

“I never work for that little money. Except once, and that was a very noble cause.”

“This is noble ma'am! His wife is a... cripple... his children on the brink of starvation.”

“Wow, you're a rotten liar,” said Ginger. “Where is that bellows crane. He probably owes you money, well, I'll ask him.”

“He's dead, he can't talk,” said the bulky man.

“Look who knows so much! Well, it just so happens that your friend here is only _mostly_ dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Please open his mouth. Now, mostly dead is slightly alive. All dead, well, with all dead there's usually only one thing you can do.”

“What's that?”

“Cut through his clothes and look for loose change.”

She placed the opening of the bellows into Harry's mouth and pumped for a few seconds, before putting it away with a grunt. Then she turned back and began to yell in Harry's ear. “Hey! Hello in there? What's so important? What have you got here that's worth living for?”

She pressed down on his chest.

A small groan came from Harry, amongst which the words “true love,” were clearly heard.

“True love, you heard him! You cannot ask for a more noble cause than that!” said the slim man.

“True love is the greatest thing in the world,” agreed Ginger. “But that's not what he said. He distinctly said, “to blave,” and as we all know “to blave,” means to bluff. So you were probably playing cards and he cheated.”

“Liar!” screamed a voice from their right and everyone turned to look.

“Elton,” sighed Ginger.

“True love, he said true love! Ginger! She's afraid! Ever since Valentine fired her, her confidence is shattered!”

“Why did you say that name? You promised me that you would never say that name!”

“What, Valentine?”

She made a loud sound of disgust.

“Valentine,” said Elton again. “Valentine, Valentine, Valentine,” chasing her around the room as she tried to loudly hum over the name. “His life's expiring and you don't have the decency to say why you won't help! Valentine!”

“This man was hurt trying to stop Valentine!” said the slim man. “If you help him, we'll take him to the castle and he can finish the job.”

“Wait, I make him better and Valentine suffers?” said Ginger.

“Humiliations galore.”

“Now _that_ is a noble cause,” she said and set Elton to task.

A few minutes later she stood with a small round ball in her hand, presenting it to the two men.

“That's a miracle pill?” asked the bulky man.

“You need to wait fifteen minutes for full potency and he shouldn't go swimming for a good hour,” said Ginger.

“Thank you for everything,” said the slim man and the two hurried away with Harry, transporting him the twelve hours back to the castle with the haste of two men who were eager to see discover who they had just used a good 65 coins on.

When they arrived at the main gates, they gave it to him and arrived at the scenario of Harry asking why they were there.

The slim man told Harry none of these facts, summing it up in a few sentences, and ending it with, “you _are_ here to stop Valentine, aren't you? We didn't just waste sixty-five crowns for nothing.”

“That is the plan,” said Harry. “The minute I can stand.”

“We'll help you storm the castle,” said the bulky man. “Always wanted to storm a castle.” He hoisted Harry onto his back and he guided them to a secret passageway, arriving in the main hall a minute after the mass head explosion had occurred.

Amidst the carnage stood those who had been forced under Arthur's rule, trying to make sense of what had happened. Raziya immediately recognising Harry and nudging Adeola beside her. He waved an awkward hello. “Take me up those stairs,” he said, pointing towards where Eggsy and Roxy had disappeared. He could sense the remains of Valentine's magic like a string that still connected them after the force of his presence in his head. It was time to cut it, permanently.

They were about to do so when they were confronted by the remains of the knights who had followed Arthur rather than Valentine and had therefore survived the slaughter. The bulky man propped Harry up against a suit of armour and he and his partner began to impressively fight their way through, but it was still taking too long. An ache in Harry's chest told him that he didn't have much time left.

Harry found that he could just, with a great force of will, make himself continue to walk. Whilst he stumbled and dragged himself along the hall, he suddenly found himself face-to-face with Anjali, who looked out of breath and triumphant for a second before she recognised him. “You're alive,” she stated, bluntly obvious. “Good for you. Roxy's saved Tilde, I heard them as I was running past their door, so it's just Valentine left. Merlin wants a word with him.”

Harry nodded. “I'm about to go fetch him,” he said, like he was going for a stroll in the countryside. “He'll be right out, just wait here.”

He had no intention of handing Valentine over to Anjali or Merlin, but by the time he reached Eggsy's room, he was sure that it would be impossible to consider fighting or killing him, as he could barely grasp his sword, never mind swing it. He was in danger of keeling over at any moment.

But not yet.

He still had work to do.

 

*******************

  
  
Eggsy's Story

*******************

 

"Harry?"

His voice was ragged and thin. Clearly being deprived of air was making him hallucinate.

“What?” said Valentine. “Impossible.”

“No,” said Harry. “Highly improbable, but as you see, barely a scratch on me. Well, a couple.”

He did indeed stand there, clothes muddied and bloodied, hair a mess, and grime covering his face, but seemingly unhurt, his sword held at his side.

He leaned nonchalantly against the door-frame.

“Gazelle,” yelled Valentine ineffectually.

“I believe she has already been taken care of,” said Harry. “Ah, ah,” he lifted his sword higher as Valentine opened his mouth again. “If you keep speaking I'm going to have to cut off your tongue. I'm not fond of your kind of sorcery. And be that as it may, I'm immune to your magic now, as you can see by having failed to kill me with it. Twice.”

Valentine dramatically pointed a finger at him. “All I see is I killed you too quickly last time. To the death then.”

“No!” said Harry, voice rising in anger, before he controlled it again. “To the pain.”

Valentine's brow furrowed. “I don't think I've heard that phrase before.”

“I'll explain,” said Harry conversationally, “and I'll use small words, so that you'll be sure to understand. To the pain means the first thing you'll lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrist. Next your nose. The next thing you'll lose will be your left eye, followed by your right.”

“And then my ears, I understand, let's get on with it.”

“Wrong. Your ears you'll keep. And I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing you hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman that cries out dear god, what is that thing, will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means, it means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.

Valentine glanced from Eggsy back at Harry. “I think your bluffing. About all of it.”

“It's possible, pig. I might be bluffing. It may be that I'm about to keel over, because I no longer have the strength to stand. Then again. Perhaps I have the strength after all.” He took a step forward and Valentine blanched. “Let. Him. Go.”

Eggsy felt the pressure surrounding him suddenly dissipate entirely and took a deep breath, standing quickly to also point his sword at Valentine.

“Now get out of here,” said Harry.

Valentine didn't hesitate, rushing past him and back towards the hall.

Eggsy looked like he was about to run after him, but Harry shook his head.

“You let him go?”

“Merlin will be waiting for him. Roxy is with Tilde. But our work here is done for now.” He re-sheathed his sword, looking for all the world as though he was completely fine, despite Valentine's claims and the knowledge that he had _felt_ him die.

“Harry...” said Eggsy uncertain, still standing where Valentine had been about to kill him. “How are you... here?”

“It's... a bit of a story,” he said, taking a step through the door. The action caused him to stumble, holding onto the bedpost so as not to fall.

“Fuck!” yelled Eggsy, running forward to help him sit on the bed. “So... Valentine was right? You were bluffing?”

“Evidently,” said Harry, breathing heavily. “Fuck, this bed is ridiculously soft, I can see why you never slept on it.”

“I can... I can go and get Merlin, or the physician” said Eggsy, unwilling to leave him alone, lest he suddenly disappear again.

Harry shook his head. “We'll be found eventually. Sit?”

Eggsy sat. Neither looked at one another for a few seconds until Harry cleared his throat. “I would like to... apologise. For the confusion. I fully intended to return earlier than I did.”

“Yeah,” said Eggsy. “S'alright. Handled ourselves without you. Got your letter.”

“I see. And...?”

“And.” Eggsy breathed out. “I forgive you. Had a taste of what living without you felt like and I didn't like it. Don't want you to go.”

“Mmm.” said Harry.

“That it?” Suddenly Eggsy turned to him, some kind of hidden, exhausted anger flaring from where he didn't know it had been lurking. “You travelled all the way to find me to kill me, then you lie about me getting married, and, you know, you lied about my dad and how well you knew him until after you'd slept with me, as well as putting myself and my family in danger, _and_ you left in the middle of an argument and went and got yourself killed.”

“That doesn't sound very forgiving,” said Harry. He looked down, avoiding Eggsy's heated glare, a self-depreciating smile just revealing itself around his lips, looking like something fragile and fleeting either to be nourished into a more lasting expression or easily cast away if Eggsy decided it should be so.

“Yeah, well, maybe I don't. Doesn't mean I want you gone though. Got some shit to talk about, that's all.”

The silence stretched again. From outside their room a distant clang emanated. Both of them ignored it. “So I assume I have some work to do to ingratiate myself with his future majesty again? Or are you about to have me executed for high treason?”

“You do,” confirmed Eggsy. “Still considering the execution.”

“I had better make a start then.” He looked up briefly and Eggsy could see the strain it took for him to not grimace as some unseen hurt reared itself from the simple motion. His voice didn't reflect whatever it was, hidden beneath the polite veneer that he always used as a mask. “But I'm afraid I need to get some sleep first, if that's acceptable to you?”

The anger withdrew again, but only as far as the comfortable nest it had dug from which to emerge again when needed. Eggsy nodded. “Do that, you look like you're about to faint.”

“Thank you,” said Harry and tried to lie down, the attempt to hide the pain becoming more obvious by the second. Eggsy immediately gripped him around the shoulder and helped.

“I'm gonna get Merlin in a sec,” he said at the surprisingly young-looking shape of Harry. Eggsy realised that he had never seen him like this before. When Harry had last almost died, he had lain still and appeared to be simply sleeping. This time it was possible to see the effort it took for him to never appear less than invincible. Instead he simply appeared more human than ever before. Tired. Hurt. A complete fucking idiot about matters of the heart. Harry nodded, closing his eyes. Clearly he had been far closer to the verge of collapse than he had been letting on.

“... Gonna stay for a bit first though, if you want?”

Harry nodded again, halfway to falling asleep already.

“Can I just ask...?”

“Hmm...”

“Who's Mr Pickle?”

A heartwrenchingly beautiful smile graced Harry's lips. “I'll tell you all about him,” he mumbled. “Just... soon...” and he fell asleep.

Eggsy lay down next to him and stayed awake, almost afraid to move, as though the illusion of having Harry back would be shattered. Eventually he reached out and took one of Harry's hands, feeling for his heartbeat in his wrist and giving a relieved sigh when he found it.

The anger inside him subsided further with the knowledge of everything that Harry must have gone through to get back to him and that now he refused to admit to the toll that it had taken on him. That part was probably halfway Harry's own stubbornness, but Eggsy knew that there were things he should apologise for as well and that Harry would not bring them up unless he did so first, content to regain Eggsy's favour. There was some work to be done, still, but it wasn't as hopeless as he had been convinced of when the two of them had last spoken.

He continued to hold his hand until he fell asleep as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't know, the attractive bulky man is tequila and the attractive slimmer man with a moustache is whiskey, but I hate guessing peoples names so I just... didn't.


	9. The Queen's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "wee haue been bedfellowes in royaltie, we will be fellowe mates in pouertie: I will euer bee thy Alinda, and thou shalt euer rest to me Rosalynd: so shall the world canonize our friendship, and speake of Rosalynd and Alinda as they did of Pilades and Orestes."
> 
> \- Thomas Lodge (casually comparing gal-pals to two well-known gay greek men)

Tilde's Story

*******************

 

Tilde had continued to fight until she was knocked out, and woke up now in a small room that seemed to belong to a guard. Trying the door, she found it locked, as suspected. The window was barred and the drop too high to survive anyway.

Quickly looking about, she found a knife in the single drawer that the room contained and then took a moment to think. If she was to use it as a weapon, she would be incapacitated within seconds, and then slowly but surely succumb to whatever mind-control that Valentine was imposing upon the rest of court. More than that, Eggsy and Roxy were probably dead by now and from the way things had gone she assumed that Merlin and Anjali had also failed. She was alone. She could fight and lose again and eventually be killed when her status could no longer be used to influence Valentine's power, or she could defy him now, one last time. She could greet Roxy again sooner rather than later and not have to endure the pain of living without her for any longer than she needed to.

Tilde turned to the window.

It would be hard, but she needed to be brave, like Roxy, like Eggsy, and Harry and Amelia. Outside she heard sounds and then a key being turned in the lock. It had to be now.

The door opened and she raised it to her chest.

“There's a shortage of perfect breasts in the world, it would be a shame to waste yours,” said Roxy from the doorway. She was covered in blood, but it seemed that none of it was hers. Tilde let the knife clatter the floor and flung herself into her arms. Roxy buried her face against her neck, breathing heavily. Both cared as little about getting stains upon them as they did about the proprieties of what they were doing before Tilde was married.

Then Roxy kissed her and let the door fall shut behind her. Tilde immediately pressed her against it, a wild desperation running through her body, and Roxy let her take over as she pulled back, only to take her hand and guide her to the bed.


	10. The Sorceror's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> will ye all that loveth me speak with Merlin? ye know well that he hath done much for me, and he knoweth many things, and when he is afore you, I would that ye prayed him heartily of his best advice. All the barons said they would pray him and desire him. So Merlin was sent for, and fair desired of all the barons to give them best counsel.
> 
> -Thomas Mallory "Le Morte D'Arthur"

Merlin's Story

*******************

 

Merlin and Anjali snuck in through one of the castle's many secret passageways, Anjali giving a brief history as they tried to avoid wading through dank, dirty water and keeping to the dry sides of the passage. It was harder for Merlin, since he was so tall, and he knocked his head against loose rock time and time again, until he finally muttered a small protective spell that made him able to not feel the pain.

“The royal family has had to flee this place five times since the castle was built,” said Anjali. “Well, six with yesterday. The first time they were all found and killed though and it was thought to be a good idea to have some extra ways to get out. All the queensguard know of them, because we can be trusted, but this one is the most secret. Only Tilde, Roxy, myself, and Amelia knew of it.”

“And when did you become proficient in magic?” asked Merlin.

“When I was a girl, before I came here. My family were very happy, but I always wanted to be a knight. In the end I came here to not have to practise any more.”

“You could be both,” he said. “There is something to be said about someone who can be trusted with steel _and_ spells.”

After a short while they finally reached a heavy, stone door. Merlin took one look at it and used magic to open it, not wanting to bother with causing unnecessary strain.

Anjali smirked. “Rely on magic too much though and you might lose some of that upper-body strength.”

Merlin muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

She guided him carefully to the upper castle, both of them avoiding people. It was at this time impossible to know who followed Valentine of their own free will and who was under his trance and they didn't want to end up killing someone who didn't deserve it.

They reached his rooms without incident.

“Hm, well I hope the others are having as easy a time as we are,” said Merlin and set to work. Anjali watched and did as directed, finally a person who fully understood what he was talking about enough to be of any help. “I've been working on this for years, but it seems that Arnold and Valentine beat me to it. Something that amplifies spells, as well as hides the identities of those who use them. What we need is to break Valentine's influence, take away his ability to cast, and then strip him of his magic. The last two I can only do if he is in the room. Once I have successfully done the first you have to go out and find him. It shouldn't be hard, he is easy to sense-”

Anjali nodded, already way ahead of him. “I will help you first to create your spell. I think your problem lies in always working alone. Two would be more beneficial.”

Merlin blinked. “I hadn't thought of that.”

They worked in silence for a short while longer, until at last Merlin sighed, holding up a strange contraption of that looked like a large mangled, metal spider. “Ready?”

She nodded again and together they shut their eyes and took the other's hands, placing the other on the machine and began to concentrate fiercely. Merlin muttered the spell under his breath, Anjali merely offering what aid she could.

They both felt when it began to work, a burst of energy that neither had expecting, leaving them breathless and almost toppling to the floor.

“Shit,” said Merlin. “I think that was too much. We may have just killed everyone.”

Anjali shook her head. “No, I think just those who had willingly given their minds to him. His influence has been on them long enough that it exploded into nothing. Everyone else is going to have an ache to last for days though.” She smiled at Merlin, as though it was hilarious.

He let out a breath. “Yes, well. Good. I need... a moment, could you fetch Valentine.”

He had been understating how tiring that had been, sitting down immediately after she had left and trying to control his shaking hands. That had been powerful.

 

Anjali dragged Valentine before him a few minutes later. He was a babbling mess. “I swear, I saw him with my own eyes, he's a fucking _God_ or a demon or something-”

“What is he talking about?” asked Merlin.

“It seems that Harry Hart is still alive and immortal,” she said. Her sword was trained on Valentine, but it wasn't necessary. He clearly was in no state to fight back or even stand.

“He-” Merlin couldn't think about Harry now.

He pushed whatever surge of hope had just begun in his chest back to where it had sprung from, and stood. “Now's the best time to end this, don't you think?”

Anjali nodded, and again she took his hand, this time placing her other on Valentine's shoulder. Merlin touched the device and began to chant. The room seemed to disappear around them, only the tendrils of their magic existing in this space. Merlin recognised his own, a bright flaming red, Anjali's white, and Valentine's a sickly, pale green after the forceful way they had dismantled his spell. Merlin instinctively knew that he should take one end of that tendril and pull the rest from Valentine's body and did so, holding tightly. It struggled and flailed, wrapping itself around his wrist like a noose and squeezing until he was sure it would shatter bone, but then Anjali gripped it as well and together they pulled, and pulled. At last the end was revealed in a burst of light spilling from Valentine's mouth and he slumped on the floor. The room began to return.

“Quick! A vial!” said Merlin and Anjali rushed to get one. Whilst he could still see it, Merlin shoved the magic in and stoppered it. It had grown weak after being pulled from its host, but now it began to thrash about in an attempt to escape. It was unable to pierce the glass though.

Merlin fell back into his chair. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead and when he looked up he saw that Anjali looked just as tired out as he felt. “Well done,” he said. “That's the first physical evidence of magic that I have ever seen. It'll do wonders for my studies.”

“Any time,” said Anjali.

“You have talent,” said Merlin to her, and she blushed slightly, but nodded.

“I will have to return and with Valentine gone, Tilde will need a new wizard. I can recommend you. After training, of course. There is a whole new avenue of magically enhanced weapons that I wish to pursue and you would be the perfect student to test them out with.”

Anjali snorted. “I could teach you some new tricks, old man,” she said, and winked.

Merlin, amazingly, turned a faint pink.

 


	11. The King's Tale Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There have been five great kisses since 1642 B.C...(before then couples hooked thumbs.) And the precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy.... Well, this one left them all behind.”  
> ― William Goldman, The Princess Bride

Eggsy's Story

*******************

 

The marriage proceedings ended up being far smaller than expected, but with much of court dead and the main hall smelling like roasted meat and still covered in bloodstains (although Charlie had managed to survive and flown to Poppy's land and Gazelle had simply vanished, despite the head physician's guarantee that the poisoned knife should have been fatal), it was decided that only the most trusted and close of the two future regents would be present at the ceremony itself, two weeks after the Valentine affair had been dealth with and Valentine himself executed at the unanimous agreement of the council and the representatives.

It was, after much deliberation, held in the library, amongst the swirling imagery of the past and the heady scent of books. Eggsy had made the suggestion and it had been met with much approval, for the way it signified the unification of the regions, as well as a respect for the past of the kingdoms. Eggsy and Tilde met outside the big, bold oak doors, both with matching nervous expressions on their faces. Harry stood at Eggsy's other side, Roxy with Tilde.

“You look great,” said Eggsy. She did, simply dressed, in a wide, white dress, hair undone and filled with white pearls so she seemed to shimmer, fae-like.

“As do you,” she smiled.

“You look lovely,” agreed Harry, before he hesitantly leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Good luck.”

He and Harry were not yet fully readjusted after all that had happened, but a long night passed out in the bed – Merlin had informed all not to disturb them – followed by a full day of sharing a bath and lying back down on new bedding without getting dressed had restored some form of closeness to them. Eggsy saw that Harry's body, like his own, was littered with knew cuts and bruises, and Harry admitted that it was worryingly painful to move too much as it hurt his ribs. To top it off there was a strange crack around his left eyes, as though someone had punched a mirror around it, and at the centre his eye was darkened and hollow, a shadow twisting inside it. When pressed, Harry confessed that he could barely see anything from it anymore, speaking lightly as though it were of no great concern.

Eggsy had requested bandages and diligently made sure that Harry's chest was wrapped up in them, giving him strict instructions not to move as he applied salve to his cuts. A few would probably scar, but nothing serious, except for where he'd been stabbed in the shoulder with a knife.

The conversation had begun after all their immediate physical needs had been attended to and they had managed to get fully comfortable, Harry lying and Eggsy sitting on the bed.

Eggsy started. “I got a brand. Like what Merlin had. Felt it when you died.”

Harry didn't speak for awhile, but Eggsy knew that words of importance came to him with difficulty and let him take his time. They suddenly had time, after all.

“I believe that Valentine believed that he could kill me like he did Arnold. Something... stopped it from working. I am sure Merlin has his theories. But I believe myself to have been dead for a short while... you shouldn't have done that,” he finished, finally getting to the point.

“I wanted to. Should've told you though.”

“Yes, well as we established, we both have some matters to work on, on that front...” he moved, and grimaced.

Eggsy lightly slapped his leg. “Don't do that.”

And there was a little silence between them again, as Harry readjusted into a comfortable position.

“I thought... when I saw you in that doorway, after I'd figured you weren't an illusion, I thought that hurt in my chest would go away. Still hasn't though.”

“I don't know if this has ever happened before. The mark of the brand being wrong. Merlin may know. He's probably already researched the matter thoroughly upon finding out that I was back.”

Eggsy had been sitting crosslegged, but now stretched out next to him, placing an arm tentatively across his stomach. “Might just need time,” he said.

“Yes. I've heard that all things heal with time. They're wrong of course, I get the feeling that whatever happened to my sight is irreversible.”

“Merlin-” began Eggsy.

“No,” said Harry. “If you give something with magic, something else has to be taken away. That's the law of it. I'm sure eventually Valentine would have burnt out as well in some spectacular manner, but we're not going to make the mistake of thinking that we can have everything that we want.”

Another silence. “Some things...” said Eggsy.

“... some things. If we're lucky.”

“I think I'm lucky. You're still here.”

After that they didn't speak again of serious things for the rest of the day. There would be time, but for now, they were both alive.

 

“Going through the main doors,” teased Roxy. “Funny how you never seem to do that the first time around.”

Eggsy grinned. “Get to it eventually though. Ever point out the nymphs down on the left side of the panelling to Tilde?”

Tilde craned her neck to look. “Oh yes, I see them. I've never done that,” she said, consideringly.

The doors opened with great pomp, Eggsy took Harry's arm, and Tilde took Roxy's. Ostensibly because their parents weren't here to marry them, but the four of them had agreed that they were doing it for other reasons.

Eggsy knew the traditions by heart at this point, having gone over them enough times in practise, and everything proceeded faultlessly, the twenty or so guests either nodding along at the right intervals, trying to hide their tears, or crying openly. Merlin and Anjali consisted of a fourth category of looking as though they were enjoying a pleasant, but not particularly riveting, picnic in the park.

Eggsy and Tilde each received one half of a satin rope, encircling the ends around their wrists, as the officiator pronounced them bound to one – “to honour and revere, until the end” – and then Eggsy leaned in to kiss her. She had kissed him a couple of times before, sweet, chaste, but they enjoyed this one for a little while longer, as two friends who liked the act and thought the other did it well.

Roxy and Harry squinted at one another across from the two, but neither seemed particularly bothered. There was, after all, still the consummation, thankfully to be conducted in private, as most had agreed to give them some leeway on the traditions after most of the staunch traditionalists had had their heads blown up.

But first they were to walk the streets so the crowds could see them, still with the rope tied between them, then the coronation itself, the massive banquet, the party, a longer thank you speech than all else put together, and at last they stood alone in Tilde's tower.

“Got to admit,” said Eggsy to her. “I always wanted to kiss a princess.”

Tilde laughed, turning her back to him. “Would you?” She lifted her hair to show him where the top of the lace was bound. It went down all the way to her tailbone. He began to untie it, pulling it all out of its holds little by little, kissing her shoulder-blade softly, before finally reaching the end. The many layers dropped to the floor and Tilde stepped out of them, naked.

Eggsy looked anywhere but at her.

She took his hand. “Follow my lead. All will be well.”

Eggsy let out a deep breath and nodded.

 

 

The next day found Harry restless and snappish with anyone who had the misfortune to come across him, except for Merlin, with whom he had never truly been able to get angry, even during the first time after Lee had been killed and his life had become one long effort to shut everyone out. Right now he could tell that Merlin saw right through him and allowed him to push him towards first a shared breakfast, and then the sparring ring, where they had spent a strenuous three hours being admired by various recruits.

And Eggsy.

He had arrived shortly after they had begun and Harry, out of his more spiteful self, hadn't taken a break in all that time, partly to avoid the conversation and partly because he wanted to show off. Both goals were a great success, until at last Merlin decided that it was time to stop and there was nobody else to hide behind. Merlin, by his smug face, probably thought it highly amusing.

Harry sighed and walked to Eggsy, who was grinning a little starry eyed at him. “Next time save a round for me, yeah? Not that I'm complaining about the show at all.”

“How did last night go?” said Harry, now that he was here refusing to wait any longer than necessary. He mentally bit his tongue off for sounding so abrupt.

Eggsy's smile faltered. “All... worked, yeah. I mean. She's really attractive. And it's customs and all and it was fun as well, she's great... It's not... I'm not suddenly desperately in love or nothing, I mean, I love her, but I love Roxy as well, and me mum, not that I'd ever sleep... that's weird. Or with Rox, she's like a sister, like Dais, but not, not that Tilde's a sister, I mean, she's my _wife,_ but... can you say something Harry?”

For Harry, this babble was everything needed to put his good mood back in order. “I'm glad to know it went well,” he said politely.

“Gods, Harry, don't talk like that,” said Eggsy. “Hate it when you treat me like I'm an advisory meeting or something. Fuck, you know what, come on-”

He yanked at Harry's hand and pulled him along the halls. It was a surprisingly open gesture of possessive anger and Harry wasn't complaining in the slightest, despite the fact that his body was already beginning to protest the harsh treatment of his workout on a body that was far from mended.

It carried into the kiss that Eggsy gave him the second they were behind the closed doors of his rooms and he had pushed Harry up against the wall, not seeming to heed the smell or feel of sweat on his body and clothes, chasing it with his tongue on his lips.

“Harry, I wanna... fuck...” he kissed him again, before finishing the thought, but that idea sounded like a good enough place to start.

There was a lull after the first bout of feverish kissing and groping, when they undressed each other and kissed over the scabs and bruises that both had received in the last time. It felt like a silent apology for every invisible hurt that they had inflicted upon each other. They wandered towards the bed without hurry - “still too fucking soft,” grumbled Harry, provoking a laugh from where Eggsy's mouth was busy around his navel that vibrated through Harry's entire body.

With the way it had begun, it ended up being far more delicate than expected, but Harry was mindful of how their last time had involved very little actual touching and Eggsy was (overly) mindful of Harry's still-healing ribs.

The quiet, careful touches seemed to last an eternity, taking their time to evolve into something more insistent, Harry now allowing himself to be freely vocal with his desires where during their last encounter he had done his utmost to not seem overly affected, lest it scare Eggsy away, and Eggsy not being so afraid, so unsure, neither of them taking control but trusting far more, despite everything that had happened between then and now.

The soft little movements gradually became more determined, mutterings of _yes,_ and _more_ and _please_ now turned into open-mouthed gasps, touches given with more purpose, but still never forceful. It was the tenderest that Harry had ever been held, like he was something to be cherished; as though the multitudes of his sins were being gently washed away by whatever magic Eggsy possessed, because Eggsy saw something that warranted this protection of him in the same way that he saw it in Eggsy, and Harry wanted him to know it in any way possible. With words, no matter how foolish they might seem, with deeds like this, and in all things that he would do for him in future.

After, they lay in a sated quiet knot, entangled enough to be mistaken for one person with too many limbs, and Eggsy running his fingers through Harry's matted, tangled hair.

“I assume that Ms. Morton's humour was of the same inclination as my own,” said Harry, smiling to himself at the imagery of everyone avoiding the queen's wing of the castle for at least a full day.

“Hm? Oh yeah, Rox came in and basically chased me out of the bed right before breakfast arrived. Haven't eaten a fucking thing all day.”

“Well, that depends on how you look at it,” said Harry.

Eggsy gaped at him. It was an amazing sight. Harry couldn't help but kiss it, meaning it sadly went away, but it was worth it for the laugh that followed and could be swallowed by his mouth to become his own.

“I'll get us something,” he made to roll out of bed, but Eggsy held him back.

“Wait a bit. Got time. Unless you've got some mission lined up I don't know about...” he said it with half a smile, half a grimace. “Gotta save the world again soon, right?”

Harry turned to him and traced the wryness from his lips with his thumb, until they softened into a shaky sigh. “It seems I can always find time to save the world, but you're my world,” he said, softly enough that it sounded like the walls might otherwise hear them.

Eggsy smiled and let out a small huff. “Knew you were a romantic sap underneath all that armour,” he said.

“And I will promise to honour and revere you until the end,” said Harry.

“Until the end.”

Eggsy leaned in and kissed him, sealing the vow.

 

 

**** _The End_ ****

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was... something that continued to get longer and longer and I don't know how. There are so many tidbits of stuff that could become larger worldbuilding, but I feel like it's enough for this story. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> So you asked for Hartwin, which is why I kept Eggsy/Tilde mostly professional (with friendship), but if anyone reading is feeling more the polyamorous puppy-pile, honestly go right ahead, I like to believe I left enough hints in there for a few ships to do their thing. Since I'm an incorrigible multishipper, it's hard to not make at least a couple of suggestions, obviously with a firm focus on a ridiculous knight who's bad at emotions and a young king who keeps them so far out on his sleeve, they're always on the verge of just spilling out at once. Also “but you're my world” is 100% from bridget jones's baby.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Chaucer's "Court Of Love."
> 
> Halfway through writing I realised that Eggsy is basically Inigo Montoya, Harry is the Man In Black, Roxy is Westley, Tilde is Buttercup, and Merlin, I suppose, is Fezzik in this constellation? Charlie is Vizzini, Valentine is The Six-Fingered Man, and Arthur is prince Humperdink – Gazelle holds the distinction of being a character onto herself.


End file.
